Back when I worked in Crystal City, my commute contained a nice water feature. Shortly after starting my job, I bought a folding bike so that I could shorten the trip from the train station to my office building. In fact, the bike in the image is the bike I rode during that stretch. However, back in 2016 towards the end of July, a wonderful life-sized chess board. Immediately, upon seeing this setup, I hopped off my bike and circled everything. It didn’t take long for me to grab a snapshot of the image, to ensure that I would never forget about this nifty feature while it stood.
A few days after its introduction to the sidewalk beside a water feature, the days progressed, the chessboard in Crystal City got some use. Given my requirement to stick to the train schedule, I never had the opportunity to play a game with the set or even enjoy working with the set. However, every time I passed the set, the pieces were in new positions, as if I was catching people in the middle of a game. The set’s turnover broke up the monotony of the commute and made me smile. While I eventually stopped and captured an image from one of these random games, looking back, I wish I’d taken more of them.
Shortly after moving into my new home, I walked outside and soaked in the nature making up my backyard. While the bushes no longer are present, I’m glad I captured a photo when they were in bloom. In this watercolor rendition of the photo, a portion of the white petals appear to have been ripped from their homes by a gust in the wind and are starting their journey in the wind. I hope you enjoy this beautiful sight.
The last image I published on DeviantArt was added to a new Premium Gallery that I will continue adding to over time. Click here to gain access to my Man’s Best Friend gallery. And enjoy the wondrous snapshots of my dogs and other pooches that I find as I explore the world. While the initial shot isn’t one of mine, it was a priceless moment that I’ll never forget about.
There is something special about the Fourth of July, and back in 2019, I captured a magnificent sight. After visiting a stand to buy fireworks in a Safeway parking lot, I saw a dog sitting in a car. While it’s hard to tell, the car’s windows were vented to ensure the dog would be fine while the owner was in the store, though if my memory serves me correctly, it wasn’t an uncomfortably hot day. However, as soon as the purchased fireworks were in my car, I took a picture of the pup, since finding the dog sitting in the driver’s seat was a once in a lifetime opportunity. Hope you enjoy the rendition.
As I was thumbing through my vast collection of mobile uploads, I stumbled upon a series of pictures that appear to come from an aquarium on August 6th in 2011. At first glance, I thought these images were taken from inside the Baltimore Aquarium, though upon further examination, I discovered I took these pictures at the American Museum of Natural History, specifically the Hall of Ocean Life exhibit according to the embedded GPS coordinates. While I don’t remember the trip, I enjoyed studying these images.
While I don’t remember why I captured this moment, as I studied it, the thing that popped to the front of my mind was a Robert Frost poem, specifically The Road Not Taken. As I studied the fish, which appeared to be eyeing the waters to its left, my mind connected it to the fork in the road from Frost’s poem.
As I was thumbing through my vast collection of mobile uploads, I stumbled upon a series of pictures that appear to come from an aquarium on August 6th in 2011. At first glance, I thought these images were taken from inside the Baltimore Aquarium, though upon further examination, I discovered I took these pictures at the American Museum of Natural History, specifically the Hall of Ocean Life exhibit according to the embedded GPS coordinates. While I don’t remember the trip, I enjoyed studying these images.
I’m not sure if I’d just watched Finding Nemo or what, but this series seemed to focus on the myriad clown fish swimming through the reef. However, my mind latched onto the search for safety from threats. While I’m certain that none of the fish in this exhibit would have attacked the clownfish, the portion of the aquatic creature in the bottom left corner of the shot lent some credence to the frightened critter. Though as I stare at it now, that critter could be Dori, or something closely related to her.
Stride through your memories and picture your childhood home. Whenever I do, there are a couple of things that leap to mind. The first is the hedge that separated that home from a neighbor. While I don’t have many memories about the occupants of that neighboring home, the series of bushes were a constant landmark during my youth and early adulthood. Despite my parents eventually deciding to severely prune them down, the ever-present hedge was an amazing landmark I’ll never forget.
As I scrolled through my old camera phone pictures, I stumbled on one that featured that long stretch of bushes taken from the driveway. Please enjoy the image from my childhood.
Back in 2014, I was working in Crystal City, Virginia, and I used the VRE for my commute. While There was a bit of a walk to get to my office from the train station, it was a pleasant walk. However, I eventually bought a collapsible bike to make the jaunt a little easier. While I don’t remember if this image was captured pre or post bike, it’s always fun to capture furry critters scamper in nature. Despite its stoic stature, perched upon the tree’s limb, it appeared to be scouting out an advancing enemy. Even though there was nothing exceptional about the squirrel, such as eating a slice of purloined pizza, I was excited when I discovered the creeping critter.
While I don’t remember when I stumbled onto Portal of Sanctuary, I still vividly remember the scene that instantly popped into my mind. The highly rough idea for the story was:
A Hunter steps through a portal to find Leodar and Tiatha. He instantly demands their surrender, but Tiatha has other ideas in mind, specifically tied to a spell her father used once before.
Even though I never mentioned the relationship in Tumultuous Beginning, that’s only because Thobin doesn’t have children yet. However, that’s a storyline that I’m hoping to explore someday. So keep an eye out for more stories revolving around that mysterious mage. Meanwhile, get ready to see what Thobin’s children are up to, having stepped into their powers.
“Hello sister,” Leodar said, sitting down beside Tiatha. “Have you been providing extra lessons for some of your students?”
With a sigh, she laid the book on her chest as she leaned away from him. “Do you object to my giving certain pupils extra attention?”
“No,” Leodar said, folding his arms across his chest. “I’m simply surprised he’s willing to take on the extra burden.”
Haughty laughter bubbled out of her lips as she tossed the book onto the table. “Humiliation is a wonderful motivator.”
As Leodar’s lips twitched, blue illumination flared from the bookshelf. Tiatha’s chair skittered across the floor as she pointed at the swelling light. “Didn’t you tell me that your teachers were incapable of creating portals?”
“They can’t.”
Tiatha inched closer to the expanding opening while a pale golden light wrapped around her fingers. “Then who’s forcing their way into your school?”
“I don’t know.” Leodar shook his head as blue electricity crackled across his shoulders. “Especially considering that it’s not common knowledge.”
With a silent explosion, the light imploded into a swirling vortex as a lean man wielding a spear stepped through the maelstrom. When he stopped moving, his gaze swept across the library, stopping when he found Leodar and Tiatha. His lips curled into a predatory smile as he thumped the weapon against the ground as if driving in a nail.
“We have a Hunter,” Tiatha said, crossing her arms as she leaned against a bookshelf. “Would you like the first strike?”
“I’m surprised you haven’t dealt with him yet,” Leodar said, stepping between his sister and the intruder. “However, I’d be willing to lead our rebuttal.”
“It would appear that I have located a couple of rogues.” The intruder’s spear leapt into the air, whirling over his head. “The council will smile upon me for collecting a pair of criminals.”
“Counting your prizes is useless if you’re not alive to collect them.” Leodar shook his head as he thrust a slender finger toward the invader. “Why don’t you Hunters ever learn from your mistakes?”
Haughty laughter rebounded off the bookshelves while a bolt of electricity lanced from the whirling spear. As it raced across the room, Leodar spun out of its path, letting it collide with the stone floor behind him. While debris flew about the room, a pair of bolts erupted from Leodar’s fingertip, racing toward the hunter.
The Hunter’s wild grin intensified as his whirling spear dipped and crashed into the energy, absorbing them. With another twirl, the Hunter slammed his weapon against the back of his arm as he stepped forward. More teeth emerged through the Hunter’s smile as he rolled his shoulders. “Rogues such as you cannot stand against the power given me by the council.”
“You would think they’d learn.” Tiatha shook her head as she pushed off the bookcase, vanishing before taking her second step.
The Hunter twirled the staff around, slamming it into the stone floor. “Just because your companion can make herself unseen doesn’t mean she’ll be able to hide from me. No one can elude us forever.”
“My sister isn’t cowardly enough to flee.” Leodar’s back straightened as he dusted his stomach. “While I don’t know what she’s planning, I’m certain that whatever she does, you’ll regret your choices.”
“My brother couldn’t have said it any better.” Tiatha slammed her glowing hand against the man’s back. Instantly, his body spasmed, and the spear fell. When the hunter’s back arched, the weapon clattered off the hard stone. With a predatory smile plastered across Tiatha’s face, she leaned to speak into the Hunter’s ear. “While you might be the best the council has access to currently. My brother and I were trained by the most skilled wizard who ever live.”
“We all claim that!”
Tiatha stepped around the Hunter, ensuring that her fingers never lifted off his body. “Thobin Derunadel trained us personally.”
“That’s not possible.”
“Unfortunately for you,” Leodar said, dusting off his shoulder, “while my sister will obscure reality occasionally, this isn’t one of those times.”
The Hunter’s body quivered as a cry rang out. “What are you doing to me?”
“That’s a fair question.” Leodar brushed his nose as he walked forward. “Tiatha, what did you ensnare him with?”
The lithe woman sauntered around the Hunter, tracing his body with a fingernail. “Without my alteration, you would’ve been lost in time for a millennium, unaware of your fate.” She looked at her brother and offered him a knowing wink. “Personally, I think this eases some of the terror.”
“You’ve altered that spell? Didn’t father say altering something like that was foolish?”
A motherly smile spread across Tiatha’s face as she turned back to the Hunter, running her fingernail up his chest. “He did. However, that claim compelled me to learn how to master it. The ultimate result of losing ten centuries is the same. However, with my alteration, I get to have a brief conversation with you before your exile.”
“That’s not possible.”
“I do not require your acceptance.” Tiatha’s fingernail pressed against the Hunter’s cheek as she leaned forward. “Your fate was sealed the moment you created that portal. When you’re released from this spell, you will enter a strange world. And you will find yourself unable to cast a spell to defend yourself.”
“You’re lying!”
She chuckled into the Hunter’s ear as blood swelled under her fingernail. “Your lack of understanding dooms you into the unknown.”
As blood trickled down the Hunter’s chest, his lips contorted into a snarl. “I’ll hunt you down.”
Tiatha straightened her back as the golden light enveloped the invader. “I’ll have died of old age long before you’re released from this spell. Goodbye, my ignorant friend.”
Once the light vanished, Leodar stepped beside his sister, rubbing his chin. “When did you perfect that alteration?”
“During my time in the forest.” Tiatha spun around, plucking her book off the table, and stalked toward the exit. “I had plenty of time to craft that change and others.”
]]>Find a comfortable corner and hunker down in as we follow the Selina and Tia as they finish their night away from the Drifter.
With the completion of Dubious Meeting and Inquiries finished, I turned my attention to the last story for my patrons, a science fiction tale. From the moment I pulled the results, I knew I wanted to highlight the Drifter’s crew this month. Unfortunately, while the other stories popped into my head in a reasonable amount of time, this tale’s concept stubbornly refused to emerge. As I continued to stare at a blank page, I knew I needed an edge.
So, I reached for my newest set of story cubes and gave them a toss. When they stopped moving, I found an old lady with a can, a fantasy potion, and a brew staring up at me. Though I had some prompts to weave into the tale, the narrative refused to unfurl from the depths of my mind. However, as I thumbed through some of the Drifter’s stories, I found Misty Invaders. After a quick re-read, that story dislodged the newest tale from my mind.
Find a comfortable corner and hunker down in as we follow the Selina and Tia as they finish their night away from the Drifter.
While docked at a busy space station, Selina and Tia disembark the Drifter to enjoy an enjoyable meal…
Selina speared the last bite from her plate as her other fingers tightened about a small vial. With a deep breath, she popped the food into her mouth as her eyes flitted about the room. Once she swallowed, Selina took a sip from her beverage while keeping the small container firmly entrenched in her grasp. “Tia, have you enjoyed your night away from the ship?”
The slender woman’s hands stopped slicing through her steak as her gaze drifted up to Selina’s motherly eyes. Licking her lips, Tia placed her utensils on the plate and leaned back. “Selina, I’m grateful for the meal.” Her eyes narrowed as she dabbed the corners of her lips with a napkin. Tia reached out, grasping her drink as her eyes whipped about the room. “However, given the clientele, don’t we stick out like a sore thumb? Also, are you sure you can pay for what we ate?”
“I answered the ladder question when we arrived.” Selina laid her utensils on her cleaned plate before sliding them to the center of the table. “As to the former, does it matter as long as we enjoy each other’s company?”
“Selina, don’t mince your words.” Tia finished her drink and placed the empty glass beside her plate. “While It’s nice to get off the ship, neither of us can afford to eat here.”
“It’s not wise to toss about such absolute statements.” Selina raised a swishing finger as her smile warmed. “You never know when you’ll find the exception.”
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To continue reading head over to my Patreon page and become a patron, $2 a month will give you access to this and other flash fiction stories.
As I thought about how this discussion would unfold, my mind flashed to countless cop shows where the investigators chat about their cases in their department’s break room. The other wrinkle about this partnership stems from the fact that only Marcus can see or interact with Benjamin. With that knowledge weighing on Marcus, he’s going to have to go to extraordinary lengths to ensure his coworkers don’t think he’s cracked under the pressure of his own caseload.
Grab a seat and hunker down as we witness the latest installment in Benjamin’s afterlife.
Several months after finding a clue about his murder, Benjamin demands answers from his living partner about what he’s discovered…
As the green spheres pulsed about the detective like a miniature whirlwind, a disembodied voice boomed inside of Marcus’s head. “Have you made any progress in finding out who was responsible for killing me?”
Marcus rose from his desk and stalked across the room, ducking into the station’s small break room. With an exaggerated yawn, he pulled the coffeepot off the heating element while grabbing one of the porcelain mugs from the nearby stack. Once he filled his cup with the liquid caffeine, he topped it off with a couple of teaspoons of sugar and a shot of cream. He dropped a stirrer into the cloudy liquid and whirled it into a uniform tan color. After he finished, the detective tossed the strip of plastic and brought the cup to his lips, letting the intense notes of caramel and spice fill his nose.
He turned around and leaned against the counter as he covered his lips with his coffee. “Benjamin, the documents I secured earlier suggest but do not mention any names for the job. All it said was that you were becoming a troublesome burden.” The detective sipped the steaming drink and allowed the creamy dose of caffeine to roll across his tongue. As a slight silence swelled, he stared through the pulsing collection of verdant pinpricks. “Even without a concrete list of names, I brought the information to the chief.”
“How’d that go over? Did he approve your pulling the case out of the freezer?”
Marcus lifted his cup, obscuring his lips. “Do you mean, aside from unleashing a torrent of curses that would make any seasoned sailor blush?”
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To continue reading head over to my Patreon page and become a patron, $2 a month will give you access to this and other flash fiction stories.
After tabulating the votes from the genre poll, the initial story was going to be a drama. However, as I thought about what to write, I remembered Hidden Exchange. After knocking off some of the rust, I remembered publishing this picture prompt here on my blog. While there was a solid resolution to the immediate tale, I left the ending a little open. Since it had been a while since I’d explored this crew’s adventures, I needed to reread the story to ensure all the details were correct.
Thankfully, my memory of Hidden Exchange was fairly accurate, so the bare bones I’d envisioned were an excellent starting point. So, grab a comfortable seat and join as we follow the latest installment of the crew of the Scythe.
After securing their client’s cargo, the Scythe heads to their destination, where Daniel and Harlan disembark for their meeting…
“He’s going to stiff us, boss,” Harlan said, sipping his brew.
“That’s an outlandish position.”
“If I were the client,” Harlan said, thumping his chest with a thumb, “I’d leave us high and dry with the cargo.”
Daniel gripped his glass and swirled the contents, releasing more of its fruity aroma. “There’s no reason for our client to stand us up.”
“You’ve been saying that for the last hour.” Harlan reached across the table, threatening him with the brew. “You seem to be forgetting about the scuffle we had when we secured the goods.”
“He wouldn’t consider that a justifiable excuse for skipping out on our meeting,” Daniel said, shaking his head.
Having finished his drink, Harlan wiped his lips dry before sliding his glass into the center of the table. The instant he removed his fingers, the central circle inscribed into the surface opened like a predator’s mouth as it pounced for its next meal.
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To continue reading head over to my Patreon page and become a patron, $2 a month will give you access to this and other flash fiction stories.
As I was thumbing through my vast collection of mobile uploads, I stumbled upon a series of pictures that appear to come from an aquarium on August 6th in 2011. At first glance, I thought these images were taken from inside the Baltimore Aquarium, though upon further examination, I discovered I took these pictures at the American Museum of Natural History, specifically the Hall of Ocean Life exhibit according to the embedded GPS coordinates. While I don’t remember the trip, I enjoyed studying these images.
As I was thumbing through my vast collection of mobile uploads, I stumbled upon a series of pictures that appear to come from an aquarium on August 6th in 2011. At first glance, I thought these images were taken from inside the Baltimore Aquarium, though upon further examination, I discovered I took these pictures at the American Museum of Natural History, specifically the Hall of Ocean Life exhibit according to the embedded GPS coordinates. While I don’t remember the trip, I enjoyed studying these images.
When I spotted some clown fish, my mind compared them to Nemo and his father from Finding Nemo. The fact that they were swimming in and around some coral further cemented the comparison between these two actual fish and their animated twins. Hopefully, you can enjoy the beauty of these swimming critters.
As I was thumbing through my vast collection of mobile uploads, I stumbled upon a series of pictures that appear to come from an aquarium on August 6th in 2011. At first glance, I thought these images were taken from inside the Baltimore Aquarium, though upon further examination, I discovered I took these pictures at the American Museum of Natural History, specifically the Hall of Ocean Life exhibit according to the embedded GPS coordinates. While I don’t remember the trip, I enjoyed studying these images.
Just like Nemo’s father, who teased the wider ocean, this picture seems to capture the real-life version as he’s testing the realm beyond the safety of his portion of the small reef.
As I was thumbing through my vast collection of mobile uploads, I stumbled upon a series of pictures that appear to come from an aquarium on August 6th in 2011. At first glance, I thought these images were taken from inside the Baltimore Aquarium, though upon further examination, I discovered I took these pictures at the American Museum of Natural History, specifically the Hall of Ocean Life exhibit according to the embedded GPS coordinates. While I don’t remember the trip, I enjoyed studying these images.
As I explored the exhibit, I came upon a stretch of the cultivated reef with some beautiful features. It also featured a group of fish swimming about the small reef akin to how a caravan would ride up hill as they’re nearing their destination.
On the evening of January 16th 2024, I was poking my head out of my kitchen door to call my dogs inside, when I saw the sun drifting under the horizon. Typically, I miss both sunrise and sunset, so this was a magical moment, but somehow I lucked into walking out to see a collection of vivid colors bleeding through the snow capped trees. The rich oranges and the luxurious reds cut through the clouds, creating a magnificent backdrop.
Immediately, I dropped what I was doing and raced to grab my camera. With the Nikon body in hand, I pulled out my default lens and assembled my workhorse camera. In my hurry to capture the fleeting moment, I forgot about my latest tool, so I didn’t capture the GPS coordinates for these photos. However, I was rewarded with a collection of beautiful photos, highlighting the nature’s innate beauty.
As I was thumbing through my vast collection of mobile uploads, I stumbled upon a series of pictures that appear to come from an aquarium on August 6th in 2011. At first glance, I thought these images were taken from inside the Baltimore Aquarium, though upon further examination, I discovered I took these pictures at the American Museum of Natural History, specifically the Hall of Ocean Life exhibit according to the embedded GPS coordinates. While I don’t remember the trip, I enjoyed studying these images.
In this snapshot of aquatic life, a collection of fish of various sizes, are exploring their sprawling home filled with coral reefs of various sizes, shapes and colors. While there are plenty of fish in plain sight here, look at all the places where smaller creatures can dart into seeking refuge.
If you don’t like my position, I understand, but if you give me a few minutes, I think I may sway you to my side of the discussion. Though if you want the brief take, here goes. Ultimately, whenever you present your audience with as many details as possible, you risk diluting the effectiveness of your narrative.
For those who want to see the inner workings of that claim allow me to elaborate by highlighting the core problem with that position. No two people are the same. Whatever the storyteller might see as disheartening, frightful, or terrifying, there’s no guarantee that every member of the audience will share those beliefs. While I have a couple threads to weave here, let’s focus on a specific example that has stuck with me for years, and was the original seed for this thought. Despite the name of the series eluding my memory (though I believe it’s from the Wheel of Time), let alone the specific book I’m referencing, the rough shape seared itself into my mind the moment I consumed the words.
The important details of this study revolve around a prisoner and a handful of allies. The detained individual has crucial information the allies need. And as you might expect, he’s unwilling to share those facts with his captors. After a brief deliberation among the allies, one of them steps forward, taking control of the situation. He stares at the captive and rattles off a list of things he’ll need to convince their prisoner to surrender the needed information. Before anyone can retrieve any of the requested items, the prisoner breaks, surrendering all the details he can provide.
This might seem like just a random story, but the important aspect comes after the prisoner is taken away. Once the prisoner’s out of eyesight, another ally stepped forward and asked how the man planned on using the listed goods to convince the prisoner to blab his secrets. While the specific quote eludes me, a close approximation of the response is, “I don’t know. I’ve never had to come up with a plan. Their own minds come up with the worst potential outcome.”
That simple exchange highlights the power of imagination. While every storyteller needs to convey details to keep the audience engaged, they need to be careful not to dump too much on the audience. Whenever too many details are provided, the writer/director risks losing the portion of the audience that feels they’re being pandered to.
Some will say there was too much, while others will say there wasn’t enough. The best way to appease every member of the audience is to limit the specifics and allow their imagination to fill in the gaps, just like the prisoner who worried about what his captors were going to do to him with the random list of items. Here’s another example to consider: if a horror movie relies on an excess of violence to achieve its desired outcome, there will be those who just aren’t affected, because of the constant push for hyper realism.
However, the same scene can simply hint at the violence by showing bits of the aftermath and the reaction of key characters. By doing this, the audience can create a mental image of what could have happened to the individual. This simple change allows the imagination of every member of the audience to create their own frightful scene that would have caused both the devastation and the horror of the reacting characters.
In our endeavor to chase hyper realism, producers and storytellers have forgotten about the most important tool at their disposal, the active imagination of the audience. As they continue to forgo that crucial and important friend, the audiences willing to consume these hyper-realistic bits of entertainment dwindle, as people continue to be left wanting.
]]>On the evening of January 16th 2024, I was poking my head out of my kitchen door to call my dogs inside, when I saw the sun drifting under the horizon. Typically, I miss both sunrise and sunset, so this was a magical moment, but somehow I lucked into walking out to see a collection of vivid colors bleeding through the snow capped trees. The rich oranges and the luxurious reds cut through the clouds, creating a magnificent backdrop.
Immediately, I dropped what I was doing and raced to grab my camera. With the Nikon body in hand, I pulled out my default lens and assembled my workhorse camera. In my hurry to capture the fleeting moment, I forgot about my latest tool, so I didn’t capture the GPS coordinates for these photos. However, I was rewarded with a collection of beautiful photos, highlighting the nature’s innate beauty.
On the evening of January 16th 2024, I was poking my head out of my kitchen door to call my dogs inside, when I saw the sun drifting under the horizon. Typically, I miss both sunrise and sunset, so this was a magical moment, but somehow I lucked into walking out to see a collection of vivid colors bleeding through the snow capped trees. The rich oranges and the luxurious reds cut through the clouds, creating a magnificent backdrop.
Immediately, I dropped what I was doing and raced to grab my camera. With the Nikon body in hand, I pulled out my default lens and assembled my workhorse camera. In my hurry to capture the fleeting moment, I forgot about my latest tool, so I didn’t capture the GPS coordinates for these photos. However, I was rewarded with a collection of beautiful photos, highlighting the nature’s innate beauty.
After escaping an ambush, Solomon demands the creatures stop hunting the neighboring village and leave. While he agreed he wouldn’t chase any who left, the hunter swore vengeance upon any who remained. As the initial rays of dawn rose, Solomon abandons his shelter and enters the forest, seeking every member of the pack who refused to heed his warning. During his search, he finds evidence to support their departure, but some tidbits hinting that some may have lingered. At the end of his search, all he can find is the pack’s alpha alone in the woods.
Grab a comfortable seat and join me as Solomon faces the remnants of the pack.
Having survived an ambush, Solomon embarks into the forest to ensure the eradication of the pack who hunted him…
Dirty fingertips pressed against the rough trunk of a tree as Solomon peered around it, studying the shadows mingling with the foliage. His head shook back and forth as it fell upon a man sitting on his legs beneath a cracked and leafless bough. With a soft sigh, Solomon loosened his sling as he stepped into view. “Are you all that’s left?”
The man’s furious eyes bulged as he leaped to his feet, barring his canines. “You dare enter my domain?!”
“There’s little risk, given how your pack abandoned you.” Solomon stopped about forty yards away from the snarling, burly figure. “Why didn’t you leave?”
“This is my home!” The man slammed his fists into the closest tree, cracking the diminutive trunk as spittle flung from his mouth. “When your bones lay scattered throughout my domain, my pack will return.”
Solomon’s eyes closed for a moment as he patted his rifle. “You witnessed the devastation my ammunition did to your kin. Are you sure you want to face me alone?”
“You’re nothing without your gear.”
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To continue reading head over to my Patreon page and become a patron, $2 a month will give you access to this and other flash fiction stories.
Despite the odd collection of inputs, I turned toward something that’s becoming more and more commonplace when interacting with story cubes, treating the icons more like the code, from Pirates of the Caribbean:
And thirdly, the code is more what you’d call “guidelines” than actual rules.
Which means you’ll have to look for and interpret some of the words in the tale to find their inspiration. Either way, these guidelines instantly gave me a structure to explore. With the story in hand, settle into your favorite chair and us witness the latest installment of this partnership.
Armed with a warrant, Marcus goes to execute it with only his ethereal shade as backup…
A man stopped in front of a dark building amidst a line of lively homes. He gripped the front of his fedora and pulled it down, obscuring his eyes, as he inched closer to the silent home.
Instantly, an ethereal figure emerged from behind the solitary man and laid a wispy hand on his shoulder. “Marcus, I don’t think you’ve given this reckless course of action enough thought. Wouldn’t it be wiser to return with proper backup?”
Wry laughter filled the evening sky as Marcus released his hat and tugged his coat tighter around his shoulders as he sauntered to the front door. “Benjamin, I have a warrant to go inside and search the house.”
The verdant shade swirled around his partner’s body for a moment before coalescing between Marcus and the front door. He placed his ethereal hand into his friend’s chest and leaned forward as his eyes scanned the street behind the detective. “I’m not arguing about the legality of your actions. I am questioning the legitimacy of your decision to enter the building by yourself.”
A smirk cracked Marcus’s visage as he reached through his partner’s chest and gripped the doorknob. “Last I checked, with your presence, I’m far from alone.”
The shade gestured at the hand piercing his ethereal body. “I can’t do much to assist you, as you can see.” The ghost’s head drifted closer to Marcus’s as his hands groped at his friend’s collar. “All I’m able to do is yell and point at approaching danger.”
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To continue reading head over to my Patreon page and become a patron, $2 a month will give you access to this and other flash fiction stories.
However, that’s all beside the point. I’m currently in the middle of an exciting process which is still stealing a vast amount of my time. It’s still a little too early to divulge those details, but I’m eager for the day when I’m ready to announce them to everyone. For now, let’s focus on the results of my latest genre poll. The first genre selected by my patrons was a crime caper, and since I was excited to return to Jessica’s adventures, it was a perfect opportunity. Unfortunately, I needed some help with the story, so I grabbed my trusty story cubes and gave them a roll. When I poked through the results, I wondered how I’d incorporate a scale, a sleeping figure, and a record or file into Jessica’s latest tale. That is, until I cocked my eyes sideways, and a tale popped out of the depths of my mind.
So, find a comfortable corner on the couch and hunker down as we follow Jessica on her latest chance to sharpen her skills as a thief.
After bypassing the target’s security, Jessica stares at the prize and debates if she should complete the job for her client…
Jessica leaned against the doorframe, crossing her arms, and stared down her nose at her goal. The soft fabric covering her slender thumb traced her lips as her gaze flicked toward the obscured security camera. While a silence wrapped itself around her limbs, a shudder raced down her spine. She pushed off the door, closing the distance between her and the solitary cabinet. Her gloved hands traced the metal box as she scrutinized every inch.
Her chest stopped moving as she opened the drawer and peered inside. Jessica’s lips curled as she withdrew a thick folder. She eased the drawer closed and laid the file on top of the single piece of furniture. She lifted the top of the folder and examined the contents of the dossier. With a sigh, she pulled a phone from a pocket and placed a call.
“What’s wrong?”
Jessica’s fingers drummed along the papers as her eyes drifted toward the camera. “Even if I retrieve the hard copy, the digital version won’t disappear. So, why are you paying me to steal something that won’t help you?”
“I didn’t think you ever questioned clients.”
Tsking, Jessica removed a portable scanner from her pouch and began creating her own copy of the file. “Normally I don’t. However, there are times when current events force me to ask some poignant questions for clarity.”
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Eventually, I settled upon a theme that connected all three prompts. Although I usually try to connect these images to something specific, sometimes it’s too challenging. I kept the sad face as an inspiration rather than making it a pillar of the theme, which made the story more successful. While Swarm introduced a partner/companion for my monster hunter, I’ve yet to ground him to the world, something the sad face provided me.
Pull up a chair and get ready for Solomon’s latest ramp with monsters.
Knowing of a small village tormented by creatures of the night, Solomon heads down to investigate the deaths of his friends…
Solomon traced the edge of the footprint as a sigh escaped his lips. He bumped the ground with a fist and rose, arching his back. He gestured at the imprint with his free hand and sauntered toward the tree line. “Miguel, that’s relatively fresh. We should run into these creatures soon.”
“Do you think we’ll locate their den before the moon rises?”
The hunter turned around, pushing the arrow away from his back with his rifle’s barrel. His gaze drifted to the sky as he ran a hand through his hair. “If we can’t, there’s a place nearby where we’ll find safety till the sun rises.” He jerked a thumb over his shoulder as he spun about and resumed his march toward the forest. “Besides, all we’re doing tonight is confirming the pack’s size and location.”
“Evil monsters have long terrorized this village.”
Solomon’s head turned to Miguel. “That’s why I came. Wiping out these creatures is my life’s calling.”
“We’ve had a few like you come, making grand promises,” Miguel gripped Solomon’s arm, spinning him about, “only for them to vanish when they enter our forest.”
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My first thoughts wove all three elements into the story. However, when I sat in front of my computer to work on the initial draft, the dedicated lightning bolts fled from my mind. Throughout the rest of the drafting process, I interpreted that act of nature to mean something else. In the end, I was thrilled with the latest installment in my hunter’s life.
Find the most comfortable spot you can and join me as we witness Solomon’s latest battle against the things that go bump in the night.
Having just obliterated half of a nest of monsters, Solomon retreats and defends a riverbank while his partner stabilizes a kid…
“Solomon, lingering here to assuage your guilt won’t help anyone.”
As another round erupted from the rifle, the hunter swallowed a curse and glanced over his shoulder. “Darrel, without the kid, we wouldn’t have gotten out of there. We can’t leave until you’ve stabilized him. Now, drag him under the bridge and start tending his injuries.”
“Don’t dump your guilty conscience on me,” Darrel said, turning toward the hill. “I wasn’t the one who decided to abandon the plan.”
“Treat the worst of his wounds!”
The stocky figure stopped as his hands curled around his rifle. He stomped his foot on the muddy bank, snapping some twigs. With a grunt, he spun about and rushed back to Solomon, yanking his arm. “The kid’s injuries are beyond my skills. We shouldn’t wait just to join him.”
“We will not leave a child behind for that oncoming horde.” Solomon stabbed a finger into Darrel’s chest as he loomed over his companion. “Don’t argue with me. I’m not asking for you to stitch him up perfectly, just to the point where we can get him to a hospital.”
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Once more, they came up big for December. The first trio I rolled was a tree, a building, and a pair of theater masks, one smiling, the other frowning. While this combination intrigued me, it took me a few minutes to work out a way to weave these patterns into a complete story. While the first two were easy to incorporate, the last entry proved more difficult. Ultimately, the masks appear for a single purpose in the story, but given how I embedded them into the narrative, I’m eager to bring back in future installments.
So, find a comfortable chair and curl up as I guide you through a tale of mystery and mischief.
Once upon a time a young man stared out his window, consumed by the falling snow’s majesty waiting for his chance to leave…
Once upon a time, a young man dragged his fingertip across a windowsill as he watched the tumbling snowflakes fall. After a few quickening heartbeats, a grin bloomed across his face when his eyes fell upon his watch. He fled his office, slipping into his coat as he rushed toward the elevator. As the doors parted, he stepped in, pressing the lobby’s button.
The moment the journey ceased, and the car opened, he snaked through the hallways to the building’s side exit. Upon reaching it, he gasped, rocking on his heels. He extended an arm and traced the strange addition of twin dramatic masks. One bearing a grin while the other scowled, but both were intensely exaggerated. He shook his head and pushed through the doorway, but instead of crunching the fallen snow, he crushed several blades of grass.
“Hello, my young sir.”
The man spun, discovering an odd being floating above him. “Who are you?”
“Sebastian, you were chosen to join the thrill,” the mysterious figure said, spreading his arms wide as he drifted around the young man, his mouth curling into a wicked grin. “Therefore, I brought you here in accordance with my master’s will.”
Trembling, the young man inched away from the mischievous stranger. “What’s going on? What did you do? Where am I?”
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Thankfully, it didn’t take long to warp the results into the setting. While it seems obvious to swap out an enormous dragon for a plane, I don’t think I would have thought of that without having read Naomi Novik’s Temeraire series. With that initial connection created, it didn’t take long to come up with the concept of a rudimentary parachute, or that it’s still a relatively fresh idea. But that still left me with the fountain shape staring up at me, so I ended up interpreting that icon as a large body of water.
With all the disparate concepts created, I sat down, letting the story flow through me. So hunker down and get ready to join me as we follow Samuel and Pearl on their latest adventure.
Having just missed his fugitive, Samuel urges Pearl to dangerous speeds as they race down the fleeing criminal…
“I’m sorry for pushing you,” Samuel said, rubbing his dragon’s neck. “Please endure this pace a little longer till we find him. Once the fugitive is secured to your harness, our return journey can take as long as you need to recover from this frantic flight.”
The dragon’s head bounced as the whipping wind intensified. After several heartbeats filled with the wind’s deafening roar, a small dot appeared in the sky, racing towards the foreign border. Samuel leaned forward, thrusting a finger toward the swelling creature beneath them. Perl’s neck bobbed as she sliced through the air, closing in on the growing dragon. As she settled into a parallel flight with the larger beast, Samuel pulled a rope out from under his dragon’s harness.
He quickly bound one end of the cord around his waist and the other to the thick leather strap wrapped about Pearl’s chest. As he gathered the extra in his hands, Pearl slowed to keep pace with her kin and turned toward her rider. A lopsided grin split Samuel’s face as he whirled a finger. The dragon straightened her neck and flipped over. Instantly, he fell from Pearl, but the ropes securing him to her harness went taut.
As he dangled from the leather webbing, he eyed the other beast. “Pearl, whatever you do, keep an eye on me.”
With a nod, Pearl’s body stretched out as her wings continued propelling them through the air. Samuel’s chest swelled as he inched down the rope. Despite the wind trying to separate him from the lifeline, his feet eventually brushed the other dragon’s back, and he released his held breath. He lowered himself onto the new beast, grabbing hold of its harness while tossing his cable towards Pearl. The moment it cleared her rider, Pearl rolled to her right and dove under the strange dragon. When Pearl vanished from sight, Samuel crept closer to the dragon’s captain.
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Aside from the crescent moon, which was used to establish when the tale takes place, I used the other die as inspiration, not as strict criteria. Find a comfortable chair as we follow a young couple as they’re thrust into a strange new world.
Bathed in moonlight, Maxwell and Camilla are taking a stroll along a beach when a mysterious wooden bridge appears before them…
Once upon a time, a young couple walked beneath a vibrant crescent moon, leaving a trail of footprints on the sandy shore. The man’s fingers entwined with hers as he stopped and twirled her into his chest. After freeing his hand from her grasp, he wrapped his arms around her, embracing her like a comforting blanket. “Who considered taking a moonlight stroll along the water to be an utter waste?”
Bubbly laughter spilled from her lips as she grasped his forearm. She leaned her head into his elbow as her chest rose. “Max, I never said that it was a terrible idea. I simply commented on the posted sign warning of the dangers we’d face if we took a moonlit walk.”
He kissed her neck as his arms tightened, pulling her closer to him. “You know, it’s never a bad thing to admit your mistakes, Camilla.”
She patted Maxwell’s hands as she shifted her temple to his chest. “Not only was this a wonderful idea, but I also couldn’t imagine a way of topping the evening.”
After kissing Camilla’s neck again, Maxwell loosened his grasp and led her farther along the sandy shore. “You can’t think of anything that would surpass an already memorable night?”
She tugged against his grip as her lips curled into a sultry smile. “Do you plan on trying?”
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My initial thought for the tale was to leverage the Drifter’s crew. However, I couldn’t think of the tale, so I grabbed my story dice and gave them a toss. Unfortunately, the results of the roll were a mask, a clock, and a padlock. As my mind tried to weave these threads together, my mind plucked a few scenes from disparate stories, resulting in a fun story.
So, grab a chair and get comfortable as we follow the latest installment for the Drifter II and her crew.
Upon entering a masquerade party, Charles searches for someone important to complete his current objective…
Upon entering the vast chamber, Charles hugged the bulkhead as he walked around the throng of masked and dancing citizens washed by the soft starlight. As he sauntered past a massive window, he tapped his ear. “Lucille, where does our target usually perch during these opulent displays of wealth and authority?”
“Please remind me why I couldn’t accompany you to this party.”
Charles paused at the next pane of glass and stared into the field of stars. His teeth ground together as he traced a line connecting two distant stars upon the clear sheet separating him from the vacuum of space. Charle’s head turned over his shoulder as he identified more members of the station’s security staff. “We’re not here to partake in the merriment. I’m attending the festivities for a purpose, and since time is scarce, skip the cometary and steer me in the right direction?”
“We are still working on getting into the system.”
“You were supposed to be in there already.” Charles massaged his forehead with one hand as he drew in a sharp breath.
“However, based on what we know, the individual you’re seeking typically lounges on a dais, positioned to get the majority of the celestial light.”
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Besides giving me plenty of opportunity to study some decent mysteries, it also reminds me of the times I’d watch this very show with my dad, both at my childhood home or at his apartment toward the end. Despite seeing several of these episodes with my dad, I don’t remember each one, though when one of them plays across my screen, my lips quiver into a smile of the memory.
Hop onto your favorite couch cushion and follow me as Kyle Rickman uncovers the truth in his latest investigation.
Having been called to assist the police by the proprietor, Kyle interviews the witnesses to uncover who committed the murder…
Kyle sauntered through the lodge, ignoring the suspects encircled by the police as he tapped his notebook against his thigh. When he reached the rear of the building, he opened his book and thumbed through the pages to read the last entry. A snap rebounded through the lodge as he reached out and traced the cracks running down the wall.
An officer stepped beside the investigator and tapped his shoulder. “Mr. Rickman, these people are eager to leave. Don’t you think we can release the witnesses since we’ve collected their statements?”
With a tight smile, Kyle shook his head and turned to face the officer. He flashed the lanky detective a false grin as he thumped the officer’s chest. “Gerald, is it common for the police to release a murderer once they’re in custody?”
The officer batted the investigator’s hand as he loomed over him. “It’s Detective Shaw.”
“I’m sorry Detective.” Kyle stepped away, raising a hand in the air while he pressed his notebook to his chest. “However, I’d never allow the guilty party to escape custody. But I guess that’s why I never made it onto the force. Those pesky principals of mine.”
With a snarl, Gerald’s finger twitch back and forth. “Despite the owner asking you to come and confirm what we found, your shenanigans won’t work this time. The witnesses all corroborate each other. The murderer hopped into a running car and fled as soon as he shot the victim from outside the lodge.”
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Grab a comfortable chair and get ready to follow a ghost as they enter their afterlife compelled to discover something about the impact they had in the world of the living.
A new shade is dragged through the city until he reaches an apartment building to face the fallout from his life’s choices…
As an ethereal shade tumbled from a building, his hands clamped around his wispy head, while his gaze drifted to an oncoming stranger. However, before he could register the distance between them, the oblivious individual walked through his fluttering form. The ghost’s body rippled as his fingers patted the tattered edges of his reforming face. Once his chest regained a normal cadence, he studied the vast sea of people carrying on with their lives.
Unfortunately, they carried out their existence in complete silence. Even though the pedestrian passed through him as if he were just a plume of fog, it was the deepness of the ominous quiet that leached more color from the skin of the newly departed. As he hung over the sidewalk, massaging his chin, his gaze flicked about, cataloging the impossible source of nothing. The idling cars, the screeching trains, and the shuffling of pedestrians contributed zilch to the unnatural stillness wrapping around him like a python constricting its prey.
As he whirled about, his eyes registered a flutter on his left hand. His chest stilled when he noticed a scrap of paper secured to his palm. Gripping a corner, he yanked on it, trying to remove the unusual accessory but failing. “What’s this?”
Instantly, pain bloomed from under the note. With a furrowed brow, he released his grasp, and his captive breath tumbled past his wispy lips. “What are you? And how’d you become part of my hand?”
More warmth flooded his left palm as an immaculate script appeared across the surface. Once the text stilled, he brought the message to his eyes and read it. “Where am I?”
Another pulse of heat washed over him as the note jumbled. When it stopped swirling, he looked down, finding a simple map with an arrow pointing at the middle, showing where he was.
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While these two do love each other, sometimes their relationship can be a little complicated. Despite accepting her position at Leodor’s Academy, Tiatha has become tired with the monotony of teaching young mages how to embrace their talents, without becoming subjugated under the council. As a result, she heads into her brother’s office to inform him that she must answer the wanderer’s call in her heart.
Grab a corner and join me as we follow the drama as these two siblings quibble about her future with the school.
Having grown tired of the monotonous grind of her scholarly duties, Tiatha seeks to leave the Academy to recapture life’s mystery…
Leodor’s gaze fell to the dying fireplace in his office as he slumped into his chair. “Tiatha, why do you feel the sudden compulsion to leave?”
Tiatha rose from the seat opposite her brother and glided across the room, stopping beside the dwindling fire. She squatted down, thrusting a fingertip toward it, and the flames responded by growing and intensifying. A piece of burning coal emerged from the depths of the contained blaze and tumbled past her. As the source of heat filled the chamber, Tiatha sauntered back toward her brother while her finger whirled about beside her hip. “I don’t recall making a vow that I’d be a member of your staff till death.”
“I didn’t mean to imply that you did.” With a long pull of the chilly air, his fingers tightened into fists while his teeth ground together. As a somber silence settled, he brushed his hand toward the smoldering ember and it rocketed back into the fiery embrace of its kin. “Despite that, over the last few terms, you’ve seemed to have embraced your work with your students, and I’ve caught a glimmer of pleasure in your conversations with your peers.”
Laughter cut through Leodor’s office as Tiatha folded her arms across her chest. “There’s a difference between happiness and contentment.”
“They’re related,” Leodor said through clenched teeth. With a sigh, he wiped a single bead of sweat from his brow as he leaned into his chair. “Besides, you have mentioned nothing to me that would indicate that you weren’t content with your duties.”
A series of clicks rushed from Tiatha’s mouth as her index finger swayed back and forth. As the last click rebounded off Leodor’s walls, Tiatha perched on the edge of her seat. “Just because I don’t complain about the dreary nature of my daily activities doesn’t mean that I’m not eager to break the monotony of it all.”
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With Phone Booth in one corner of my mind and Darren’s fights with the Hunters in the other, an idea blossomed in the depths of my mind. Typically, I’ve never named the Hunters who appear in my stories. However, this time it made sense, since I wanted to highlight the aftereffects of their battle.
Come grab a chair and join me as we explore Darren’s message to the council.
After fighting with Darren, Tristan appears in the council chambers suffering from a mental breakdown…
When two cloaked figures sauntered into a small chamber, a steady collection of moans, howls, and screams serenaded them. Without faltering, the pair marched toward the source, a wriggling and writhing man lashed upon a slightly undersized table in the center of the room. As they neared, the bound figure’s fingernails dug into the ropes securing him. With every twitch of his body, the restrained fellow added fresh notes to his chorus of pain and anguish.
As the eerie ballad filled the space, the smaller individual grabbed his companion and guided him past the confined figure, racing away from the chilling tones. Upon reaching the far wall, he waved his hand as if washing the cries from existence, and a pale barrier of energy appeared, plunging them into a muffled silence. With a huff, he threw back his hood as his chest fell. “I thought you tasked Tristan with collecting a rogue.”
The taller individual slid the covering off his head, revealing a wrinkled face and tired eyes. He turned toward the bound man and shoved his hands into his robe’s sleeves. As the pair stood there, cut off from the agonizing sounds, the elderly figure rose to his full height as his gaze swept over Tristan. “That was his most recent assignment.”
The smaller one thrust his finger at Tristan while his nostrils flared and his brow furrowed. “No rogue is capable of doing that to him!”
“You’re missing the most significant point.”
“Are you saying that Tristan’s mind being broken isn’t paramount?” The shorter figure said, as his whitening fists dangled beside his hips.
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Unfortunately, despite sitting in front of my laptop, my mind steadfastly refused to cooperate. Instead of fighting with my unwilling mind, I freed it up by leaning into some Star Trek DS9. During a recent use of the show as background noise, I was reminded why Quark was such a lovable character. And I leaned into that unique mix of traits to devise the latest tale for Charles and his crew.
Grab a seat as we witness a merchant barter with Charles to convince him to purchase upgrades for the Drifter.
After unloading their recent cargo, Martin drags a merchant to his captain, to ease Charles’s concerns with the Drifter…
“Boss, do you have a second?”
Charles ran his fingers through his loose hair as he closed the Drifter’s hatch. As the captain released a pent-up breath, he pulled his jacket around his shoulders. With a forced grin, Darren jerked his head toward the vessel.
With a broad smile, the crewman grabbed a nearby stranger’s shoulder and dragged him to Charles’s ship. As the two men flowed through the dwindling crowd, Charles massaged his temples, muttering a series of curses. When they neared, Charles lifted a hand, compelling the two to halt. “Martin, who’s your friend? But first, weren’t you going to appreciate your visit to the station? You remember that we’re not planning on having a lengthy stay. If you aren’t careful, you won’t be able to unwind.”
A chortle ripped through the man’s lips as he jerked a thumb over his shoulder. “I was relaxing.”
“Let me guess, you went shopping?”
“I enjoy exploring a station’s marketplace,” Martin said as his shoulders climbed towards his ears. “However, I ran into someone who claims he can upgrade all the Drifter’s less reliable systems.”
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As I waded through the plot concepts, I latched onto Darren Gilbert as the catalyst for this tale. When I sat down to begin working on the tale, it didn’t take long for me to coax the skeleton of the story from the depths of my mind. While I’ve highlighted the failures of the Hunters, you might think they’re all push overs. Unfortunately, the characters I’ve been exploring from Darren’s world are the cram of the crop and they’re motivated to be better than the council’s militant arm.
Grab a chair and join me as we delve into the latest installment in Darren’s life.
While exploring the forest near his home, a hunter attacks Darren. Fortunately, the initial strike missed…
As mud seeped into Darren’s pants, he reached for a fallen branch. When his fingers wrapped around the deteriorating side of the limb, a bolt of crackling energy raced over his head and slammed into a nearby tree. His fingertips tightened about the wooden rod as he leaped forward, rolling to his feet and whirling toward the source of the attack.
A series of emphasized claps rang out through the forest. After the last thunderclap, a silence descended upon them, and the interloper folded his arms behind his back. “Your reflexes are impressive.”
Darren’s chest swelled with the acrid air rising from the scorched tree as his stance widened. His free hand ran along the limb, severing the offshoots from the makeshift staff. With a grim smile, he brandished the improvised weapon over his head. As it whirled overhead, a soft, pale glow pulsed from his exposed skin. “Thankfully, hunters have the same fatal flaw.”
“Which would be?”
“Every one of you is too arrogant and lazy to bother determining the abilities of who you’re pursuing.”
“Do you believe the council, or the Hunters are worried about naïve fools like you?” Energy jumped about the hunter’s extended fingers as his teeth widened. “We are the ones tasked with capturing those who choose to waste their life running away rather than embracing their destiny to rule this world, because we’re the most skilled.”
“There are mages more capable than you.” The staff’s speed increased as its illumination brightened. “Unfortunately, you’ll learn that lesson soon enough.”
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While Shawn Spencer is no Sherlock Holmes, both had examples where they would look at the facts at their disposal and find the truth effortlessly. Honestly, I’m not trying to put Kyle Rickman on that level, but I wanted to lean into that skill with this piece of flash fiction.
Find a comfortable chair, hunker down, and dig into the latest mystery for Mr. Rickman.
After his brief conversation with Jessica, Kyle Rickman hunkers down in his office to study crime reports when a friend comes seeking help…
Thud!
Kyle snapped the file shut and tossed it on his desk as he spread his feet, revealing his office door. “Nobody’s here.”
“We need to talk, Kyle.”
With a sigh, the investigator ran his fingers through his hair. “Door’s open.”
As the wooden slab swung inward, a head poked through the opening. “I’m surprised you’re here by yourself.”
“Paul, Gregory’s working a case, and Susan needed to go home.” Kyle pulled his feet off his desk as he rubbed his forehead and leaned forward, planting an elbow on the desk’s edge. “What can I do for you?”
The officer slipped into Kyle’s office and scurried to the free chair, his head whipping about, searching for a pending blow. “I need some help.”
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Find a comfortable spot where you can curl up with your favorite device and follow Samuel as he seeks to replenish his trove of magical equipment.
When Pearl landed in New York, Samuel disembarked to find his friend who can help him replenish his magical defenses…
As Pearl’s talons sank into the building’s roof, Samuel slid down her back. When his feet thumped on the concrete, a sigh rushed past his lips as he removed his pack from her harness and patted the dragon’s side. Samuel tossed his bag over his shoulder and pointed towards the setting sun. “Given the trinket I’m here to replace, I’ll be dealing with Zachary for quite some time.”
Pearl’s tail bumped into Samuel’s chest as her head swept back and forth.
With a forced grin, Samuel reached up, stopping her neck. “Why don’t you visit the ocean and search for a good meal?”
The beast nudged her snout against Samuel’s shoulder.
A hallow laugh emerged from Samuel’s lips as he placed his forehead against hers. “Pearl, this is completely different from the last time you left me. Since I’ll be safe in the city, why don’t you spread your wings and have your fill from the sea tonight instead of being cramped, cold, and hungry on this roof? I won’t need you till sunrise at the earliest.”
Pearl’s head bobbed as she threw herself toward the setting sun.
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Find a comfortable chair and curl up with your favorite device in hand and follow the conversation between a talented investigator and a master thief.
After hiring an up-and-coming young thief, Jessica saunters into her bar to deal with a stranger who refuses to leave until they’ve spoken…
The gently swinging door bumped against the wall as Jessica glided into the bar. The man lingering at the entrance spun towards the soft noise and started walking toward her. Instantly, Jessica raised a hand, compelling him to stop. With a warm smile, Jessica sauntered across the room and slipped behind the counter. “Pull up a chair and join me.”
“You don’t mind speaking with me here?”
“It’s my place.” Jessica stretched for an upper shelf and removed a bottle. She eased the crystal-clear container under her arm as Jessica retrieved a small tumbler. Blindly Jessica rummaged through the freezer and, with a forced smile, she withdrew a large spherical ice cube and dropped it into the glass. “And we’re not open, so join me for a drink.”
The man tipped his head as he slipped into a chair. He folded his hands and laid them down, his thumbs twirling around each other. “Thank you for the offer, but I’m not thirsty.”
A horse chuckle tumbled past Jessica’s lips as she opened the bottle and waved it under her nose, teasing the powerful scent from the depths. “It’s a shame to enjoy this alone.”
“Unfortunately, I still have to get home.”
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As we watched these otters play, one of them paused, perched upon its balance beam. The lithe animal held its place on the log like a statue of carved marble. An instant before the animal dashed away, its look morphed into an inquisitive expression. However, instead of reminding me about an inquisitive child, the otter’s facial features reminded me of a cop probing a criminal sitting across from him in the interrogation room.
After we finished watching the otters play, we turned around to find another artificial animal. While there are several kinds of animals, this constructed creature could represent, the first animal that I saw from this constructed beast was a sly fox. Do you agree? Or do you see another animal here?
One of the last things we explored at Mill Mountain Zoo was the Reptile House. As soon as we entered the humid building, we discovered an extensive collection of frogs. The first aquarium I found contained a handful of yellow frogs, exploring their terrain of rock and greenery as they continued searching for higher ground.
Once the wolf deemed that the oncoming horde had turned away from his territory, the animal jumped off his stone and explored his domain. As he walked away from his position of strength, his head whipped about. However, satisfied that there was no danger, he turned about and continued his jaunt through his territory.
Once we finished exploring the three animals hidden away in the zoo, we claimed a seat under the pavilion, to keep the sun off our backs. After a few moments, my eyes flicked up to the ceiling, and I did a double take. The large avian hanging over us was a manufactured owl. Thankfully, the zoo did not go to great lengths to make this guardian look too realistic. After capturing some shots of the constructed creature, we continued to relax for a few moments under the avian’s watchful glare.
Fresh off our brief rest, we continued to the next building and watched a couple of otters play in their aquatic habitat. Unfortunately, as we neared them, both of these animals dashed into hiding. A few moments later, one of these majestic creatures emerged from the water, taking timid steps toward the edge of its home.
Once the first animal emerged from hiding, the other burst from its hiding place and joined the play of his friend. As we watched them bound across the rocks and logs, one of them inched across a tree trunk laying across a portion of their aquatic home. The sight of this lithe animal made me think of a gymnast carefully crossing the balance beam, taking great care not to fall off.
Even though I just wanted to get a close-up shot of this avian visitor when I neared, its survival instinct overrode its disregard for the world and it scampered away. Though instead of taking flight, it spun around and dashed away, its tail feathers dragging across the fallen leaves.
As I thumbed through my pictures, I realized a fair number of them just were good enough for me to publish. Thankfully, this image of a sleeping fox was one of the good ones. Whenever my eyes fall upon this image, I can’t help but think of my dogs when they curl up in a corner of the house to nap.
In the back of the zoo, there are a few habitats the zoo chose to isolate. Among the three isolated critters, we headed to the one featuring an American icon, a bald eagle. When the regal creature came into view, we saw it perching upon a tree branch, itemizing everything in its domain. While I wished to see this magnificent bird in flight, watching its profile sway back and forth was an amazing view.
The three animals that were separated from the rest were the bald eagle, an American black bear, and a red wolf. Unfortunately, the bear didn’t meander where we could see it. However, the wolf was front and center. In fact, when we got to his part of the zoo, he was standing on a rock examining the zoo patrons. It was as if this canine was searching for the best way to protect his home from an oncoming horde.
As we stood over the crane, it continued preening itself as if it were the only creature nearby. It’s amazing how wildlife can be both skittish and blissfully apathetic about their surroundings. I know we were at a zoo, and animals there are a little calmer, but I’ve witnessed uncaged animals have the same odd mix of traits.
Nestled between a few habitats in the zoo was a platform with a wonderful view of the city below. My wife and I stood there flanked by the zoo’s animals as we took in the sprawling sight of the city. While there was one of those viewfinders, neither of us used them to get a closer view of the city, or the distant mountains.
As we circled the habitat for the various birds, I caught sight of a red bird nestled atop the wire frame. While there were many birds inside their habitat, they couldn’t compete with the traveling vibrant red bird who was seeking to chat with his kin.
As we walked to another habitat, I caught sight of another free bird, scrambling across the ground. Why was the little creature wasn’t flying? I couldn’t guess. However, this tiny avian personified the odd contradiction of disregard of the world while maintaining a skittish core for survival, that I highlighted with the crane.
Settle into a comfortable chair with your favorite device and join me as we detail the conclusion to this series featuring Samuel, a Dragon Rider.
As Samuel fires his last enchanted bullet, he stares into the oncoming foes, wondering where his allies are
“Do you have any more spells, enchantments, or whatever?” The sheriff asked as bullets slammed into the wall over his head. With splinters showering down upon him, he loaded his final round into his weapon’s magazine. In a single motion, the lawman cocked the rifle, positioned it in a growing hole, and fired at the first combatant he saw. “Cause the rest of your magical defenses are failing!”
Samuel worked his Winchester’s lever and cursed when he glanced down at the empty chamber, staring up at him. With a sigh, he laid his weapon down as the barrage of gunfire coming from outside increased. “I used my last bullet enchanted to deal with dragons, and my regular bullets are out of reach.”
“Nope, they’re gone.”
Samuel’s hand fell to his holster and his tired fingers wrapped around the comfortable grip of his pistol. “We just need a little more time.”
With a sneer plastered across his face, Jameson crept forward and lifted his chest off the floor. “That’s unfortunate for you, considering your defenses are withering away to nothing, while my family’s resolve intensifies.”
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Grab your favorite chair and get comfortable as I continue Samuel’s latest tale. With a vengeful family on their way, come discover if Samuel can blunt their assault.
With an array of dragons and vengeful family on their way, Samuel hunkers down to build a defense…
When the last bullet slid into his weapon, the sheriff’s eyes drifted to Samuel. “What can you possibly do against the vast array of beasts that are descending upon us?”
Samuel’s shoulders climbed as he unslung his pack and withdrew a black orb littered with silvery swirls. With an incline of his head, he squeezed the smooth surface until his fingertips whitened. Instantly, the exterior buckled as his fingers pierced the sphere’s shell. A heartbeat later, inky darkness oozed from the openings and enveloped Samuel’s right arm.
As duel curses filled the jail, the sheriff thumped his weapon’s stock against the floor. “What’s that?”
A smirk wove its way across Samuel’s lips as he slammed his hand against the wall. After a few tense seconds, the blackness retraced its movements, transferring to the building’s exterior. When the last drop seeped into the boards, Samuel drew his LeMat and unloaded the central barrel, while the substance receded from view. “That bit of sorcery will protect us from the dragons, his family, and their weapons.”
Jameson rubbed his head as he rose from the ground. “How’s that puddle of ink supposed to shield you from suffering my family’s wrath?”
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Here’s another angle of the two waterfalls. While the leaves captured in the upper pool are obstructed, I captured a wonderful shot of the falls. Though the fallen leaves do break up the falling curtains of water.
Zooming into the lower pond, I captured a better look at the falling water and the scattered leaves.
Despite the falling water and swirling leaves, the tranquility of the lower basin was a mesmerizing sight that calmed my racing mind.
Despite seeing some animals in a pen near the Mill Mountain Zoo’s entrance, the first enclosure we stopped at was the one for a Sandhill Crane. According to the plaque, they are the most abundant crane in the world and are distributed throughout North America and extend into Cuba and as far as northeastern Siberia. It also mentioned that they mate for life, and enjoy dancing, which, while commonly done for courtship, ultimately these birds seem to love dancing for any reason.
Find a comfortable chair and curl up with your tablet as we follow an up-and-coming thief who’s seeking to impress Jessica, hoping she’ll teach him everything that she knows.
As Jessica continues to grow older, newer thieves test themselves against her, hoping their skill will catch her eye…
As a heavy door swung open, a set of deft fingers wrapped about its edge, silently easing its journey into the room. When the intruder’s fingertips bumped against the wall, the boy released his grasp and crept into the darkened office. His head whirled around as he hooked a finger around his ear. After several frantic heartbeats, he drew in a long breath as he sealed himself in the darkness.
A muffled click thundered through the room as he withdrew a small flashlight. When he flicked the switch, a soft glow illuminated the cramped office. His chest rose and fell in an irregular pattern as the beam slid across the ladened walls. Tipping the light toward the ground, he avoided the cluttered floor as he inched along the unsteady piles. When he reached the desk, the intruder slipped into its ornately carved wooden chair.
The soft swath of illumination crept about the decor, revealing several interesting and valuable trinkets. Despite the baubles, the boy’s lips curled into a deep grin when the light fell upon a series of thick green leather-bound books. As his smirk stretched across his face, the boy removed the top of the flashlight, dismissing the surrounding darkness. With a glance toward the door, he placed the electronic candle beside the tomes and touched the one closest to him. Instantly, he pulled it off the shelf, exposing a steel lining.
A chuckle tumbled past his lips as he laid the thick book down and tugged the extraneous metallic liner. A soft creak rang out as the thief teased another secret from the room. As he inched closer to the hidden compartment, the dim light glittered off the chrome sections of the safe. Without waiting, he leaned over and traced the edge of the dial. When a fingertip found the slight divot, he withdrew his lock picks from the small bag strapped to his chest. He selected a thin piece of metal from within and worked it into the gap. With a deft motion, the panel popped off the tiny vault.
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After parking in the lot for the Mill Mountain zoo, we walked along the path and took in the sight from atop the mountain. Sprawling out past the ridge’s foliage was a stretch of field, peppered with trees and just beyond slopping mountains. After studying the distant features, my gaze drifted up to observe the swirling clouds.
Perspective is always important. This time, after studying the swirling clouds, I captured a shot of the swirling clouds. The beauty behind the billowy white features adorning the sky is that they’re the original Rorschach test. Two people can stare at the same cloud and see two different things. What do you see floating through the sky?
To get to the zoo, we had to walk through the Wildflower Garden. While the flowers weren’t really in bloom, we did see a water feature with two small waterfalls, feeding a pair of shallow pools lined with stones.
After taking in the beauty of the illuminated city beneath its star, this golden shrub caught my eye. So I diverted myself from the car and captured these erupting golden flowers, sitting before a collection of evergreen trees. The bright splash of yellow positioned atop the washed out green foliage is a wonderful juxtaposition of nature’s simple majesty and man’s engineered beauty.
On the last full day of the vacation, we headed back to Mill Mountain, the home of Roanoke’s Star, to explore the zoo. This time, I was able to see the surrounding landscape. As a result, I pulled out my camera and started taking shots of the countryside.
As we churned along the road, this scenic view of the mountains just over the tops of the nearby trees called out to me. On the other side of the hill, butting up against the street, a pair of buildings are there getting an amazing view of the distant mountains every day.
On our second night in Roanoke, we headed for the city’s star. There’ll be a shot of the massive star soon, but as we walked around it, I caught a glimpse of the city sprawled out before me. Normally, I’m not one for cityscapes, but this view took my breath away. Between the stationary illumination and the whipping lights of the cars, the juxtaposition was breathtaking.
As we continued around the city’s star, I captured another shot of the illuminated surroundings. Despite my preference for natural sights, like waterfalls, a sea of trees, or a setting sun, the series of shots that resulting in this watercolor tugged at my mind, pushing me to accept their beauty.
The city’s star is a massive freestanding structure standing one thousand and forty-five feet above the city. Standing below the star, its glow washed over my wife and me as we studied it. When we left the landmark, we could see it as we sailed along the highway to the Airbnb.
The flowers in this section of the planter were bunched together and reminded me of a group of people bursting with joy as they gather about something. I won’t rob your imaginations of the opportunity to create your own object that’s captivating their attention, by detailing what I see beneath their gazes. However, just picture something you love resting on the beam of wood and watch the collection of buds glow.
A little while back, my wife and I needed to take a step back and allow our minds to rejuvenate. As a result, we went searching for destinations and came up with a small cabin up in the Roanoke mountains. After pulling in, we unloaded our car and settled into the Airbnb. The next day, between seeing the local sights, I wandered about the neighboring trails with my camera and started collecting memories of the surrounding mountainside.
As I started down the trail, I saw a collection of small yellow flowers poking through some bramble. The way theses flowers thread the bare branches was captivating and made me think of gold nuggets hanging from the foliage.
A few minutes farther down the trail, I found this evergreen shooting up from amid the rest of the bare trees. This sign of life amidst the slumbering trees was a reminder of nature’s enduring cycle. With the memory firmly captured, I stood there beneath the tree as my mind pictured a giant planting a fresh sapling into a barren land.
After emerging from the trail, I followed the road until I found a view of the distant mountains through the leafless trees. The magnificent sight froze my legs while my lungs drew in the crisp, cool air. Hopefully, this view will captivate your mind and whisk you to a wonderful place, easing the stress off your shoulders.
Yet, the concept of locking someone up whose family would be irate was interesting to weave into a more serious tale. After a handful of drafts, I’m happy with the conclusion of this story, while leaving it open to future installments.
Tuck yourself into a quiet corner and join me as we explore Samuel’s latest foray.
After securing a dangerous criminal, Samuel drags him to the nearest town to collect his bounty…
When Perl’s talons racked the earth, the dragon dropped in front of a building and curled into a ball next to the entrance. Samuel patted the beast’s neck as air flooded past his lips. He turned around and loosened the bonds of the bundle behind him. The moment the final leather thong fell upon Pearl’s back, Samuel shoved the rough blanket under the main strap of his dragon’s harness. “Wake up Jameson.”
“Sleeping is not easy when you’re strapped to a dragon.”
“Your lack of rest isn’t my concern. Though once I’ve deposited you into the cell, you can sleep until the judge arrives.”
As the grimy and ramshackle man sat up, his gaze drifted toward the looming structure. His shoulders fell as he drew his thumb across his lip. “You didn’t have to catch me.”
With a scoff, Samuel loosened the lashings securing him to Pearl. “Of course, I had to capture you.”
“I offered to make it worth your while.”
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When I first created Tiatha, I didn’t know how consequential her existence would be for my fledgling world. However, it’s been wonderful to explore her character with each passing tale. This past January I wrote Subtle Defense, and while I don’t highlight her rebuke of her new colleagues, I hint at it. With this installment, I pick up after multiple humiliations of Volodar.
Pull up a comfortable chair and join me with Tiatha’s latest tale.
As Tiatha enjoys a meal in her classroom, Volodar stormed in seeking to redress the embarrassments he’s suffered from her hand…
“I haven’t forgotten about you.”
With a sigh, Tiatha laid her fork on her plate as she twisted toward the open door. As the edges of her lips curled up, she tapped the tip of her chin. “Fortunately, Volodar, after dispatching you back to the Academy, I have not given you a second thought.”
“You’ll pay for the insults you’ve thrown my way.”
Tiatha plucked her cup off her desk and brandished it before taking a long sip. “Do you think it’s wise for you to instigate another skirmish in this war of embarrassment?”
“You can’t handle a straight up battle with me.”
Tiatha’s smile widened as she eased her drink back onto the desk. “Didn’t we determine the gap between us was too vast for you?”
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Of course, without a broader idea, these three strands were utterly useless. After my mind sputtered, I stepped away from my computer, but as soon as I was out of arm’s reach, an idea slammed into place. Giddy with the concept, I ignored the desire for fresh air and pounced on my computer as the story unfolded in my mind.
Grab a comfortable seat and join this magician as he experiments with a new trick.
As a magician toils at perfecting his latest illusion, his assistant enters his workshop, seeking an answer…
A magician plucked a handful of cubes from the tabletop and tossed them toward a stack of books. As the dice rebounded off the leather-bound tomes, soft footsteps rebounded off the walls. While they crept closer, he reached out, peering at the dots staring out from their tops. With a sigh, he flicked one off the table and turned to the oncoming individual, his wand whirling about his fingers. “How are you doing, Cecilia?”
The moment she came within arm’s reach, the lanky woman stopped, and her arms snaked across her chest as she pursed her lips. “What are you doing in here today?”
“What do I normally do when I isolate myself in my workshop?”
Cecilia peered past him and gestured at the die lying on the floor. “Sebastian, it looks like you’re playing with your collection of trinkets.”
“No, my dear.”
“Then what did you flick off the table?”
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With my free time ending, I stared down the path, wondering if there was enough time to explore the hidden depth. Unfortunately, with a glance at my watch, I knew my time walking this trail was coming to an end. Despite my smile faltering, I brought my camera up and captured this path as it stretches off in the distance.
Despite preferring to capture beauty in nature, sometimes I’ll explore man made creations. Last Christmas I received an off-brand Lego light of a spaceman sitting on a crescent moon. After spending an afternoon putting the thing together, I placed it on my office shelf. While it’s not crowded, there’s a lot going on there and I wanted to experiment with camera focus. As a result, I focused on my new light source and took a few shots. What items can you make out in the background?
Stop and smell the roses. I know these flowers aren’t roses, though I’m not sure what they actually are. However, I know they are not roses. But the saying holds true. I’ve walked past flowers like these hundreds of times in my life, ignoring them because I was in a hurry. Looking back on my life, I wonder how many beautiful things I’ve missed because I was rushing through life or being a little salty. Take some advice from me and slow down and release your frustrations. You’ll be amazed at the sights right under your nose.
Nature’s beauty can be split into two major categories: wild and controlled. When I ponder on nature’s beauty, I’m typically pondering on things like waterfalls or sunsets. These examples (and so much more) are slices from the unbridled side of nature. However, sometimes you can get a snapshot of the world’s grace from sights cultivated by people. This photograph is a different part of the same planter as Flowers 1, and the brilliant yellow petals complimented their white neighbors.
Shifting perspectives is a wonderful thing. With every shift, you get new information, or an entirely different view. Forest’s Anchor is no difference. With a few more steps down the path, I got more of a headlong view of the interesting stone. From this angle, the lone rock appears it appears to be racing through the forest, blowing past the other tiny vehicles represented by the fallen leaves.
As I strolled down the path, the sun was slicing through the canopy. Instantly, I knew I wanted to capture the sunbeams on their journey through the foliage. With a grin, I switched my Nikon to continuous shot and started taking pics of the tree and then turning it up toward the sun. It took several attempts to get a couple of good options for the watercolor treatment. Thankfully, this image displays the depth of colors for the leaves.
On the way back up the trail, I stumbled (figuratively, not literally) onto this tree’s exposed roots. At the time, I just thought it was an interesting sight. However, after watching the Lord of the Rings, this reminds me of Treebeard and the other Ents. Watching those massive trees battle the legions of Saruman. This fist reminds me of the irate creatures stomping across the field, seeking their vengeance.
Before emerging from the forest, I turned down another path, seeking more of the abundant sunbeams piercing the canopy. So, with the knowledge of previous success, I took more “blind” shots of the sun. Despite the foliage cast in darkness because of the angle, the contrast, as well as a hue adjustment, between the sunlight and the forest results in a magnificent view.
As I sauntered along the walkway lining the pond, I came across an interesting tree. The bit that captured my attention was its curling bark. However, instead of a little piece peeling away from the tree, every inch was curling away from it.
The simple things in life can create enduring memories. While circling the pond behind Tackett’s Mill, I paused next to an entangled collection of bare branches. While there’s not a lot going on there, just beyond the crossing foliage, I could see the pond’s fountain. The juxtaposition of the unadorned branches with the dancing tendrils of water is captivating.
As I was heading back to my car, the sight of grey stones yanked me to a standstill. With each ticking second, my gaze fell and studied each of the stones running away from me. After the brief study, I shook my head and went to my knee to capture this makeshift and deteriorating road.
Shortly after meandering around the pond of Tackett’s Mill, I searched for walking trails to highlight nature’s beauty. While I cannot remember the name of this public trail, the resulting pictures keep the memory alive. As I ambled along the path, a white rock snatched my attention. Something about it compelled me to give it a second glance, though I cannot remember why. However, as the watercolor took shape, my mind filled in the blank, picturing an alien device anchoring it to the forest.
As I continue exploring the world around me, I return to places that I’m familiar with. A few weeks back, I meandered through Tackett’s Mill with my camera. For most of my life, (the part I can remember) I never explored the shopping center past its Safeway. However, when you venture down to the lower level of the outdoor strip, you’ll find a pond. And this sight, with its varied texture, called out to me.
In the middle of the pond behind Tackett’s Mill, you’ll find a fountain. The spurting tendrils create a wonderful capstone for this beautiful slice of nature.
As I widened the camera’s view, more of the pond’s features flooded into the viewfinder. Separating the grass from the water is a collection of rocks laid out in rough rows. Besides the pond’s rim, surrounding trees, and majestic fountain, the row of signs adds a touch or order to the bridled chaos.
When I pulled up the initial draft, the words staring out from the screen were disappointing. Even though I was unhappy with the details, the rough shape was something that I wanted to explore. With a renewed vigor, I tweaked the narrative, tossing clunky lines and inserting more complementary ones. When I finished my second draft, I found myself thinking about the saying, battle plans rarely survive first contact with the enemy. This time, the enemy was me wearing my editor’s hat.
So, grab a chair and join me as we follow Lucille and Martin as they search a station for a component to revive their ship.
While Charles attempts to repair the Drifter II, Lucille and Martin depart their docked and dead ship in search of a vital engine component…
“Lucille, can’t we just head to another station since nobody has what we need?”
Lucille’s eyes fell as his words rebounded off the corridors. Her chest swelled as she pressed her fingertips to her temples. As her fingers began making slow circular motions, Lucille released a tense breath. “Martin, there’s a reason we’re searching for all the vendors who call this place home.”
A huff tore through the hall as Martin shoved his hands into his pockets. “I think we’d have better luck elsewhere.”
“You need to pay more attention to Charles.”
“What are you rambling on about?”
“The Drifter’s engines died the instant we completed the docking procedures.” As Lucille’s chest swelled, she closed her eyes and ran her fingers through her shoulder-length hair. Stepping forward, she clasped her hands, gently shaking them. “Until we locate the piece, we need to repair them. The ship isn’t leaving.”
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After comparing the reports from a recent series of thefts, Kyle grabs a surveillance photo and seeks a friend on the force for some help. With some back and forth, Mr. Rickman secures some time with the latest criminal in his search for the elusive thief.
Having pulled in a favor with the police, Kyle enters the interrogation room armed with a coffee and case file to question Harrison…
“Kyle, what are you expecting from him?”
The lean investigator tapped the file against his chest as he stared through the two-way mirror. “All I need is a name.”
The officer pressed a finger against the glass as his gaze drifted to the private eye. “And you seriously think this lump can provide it?”
“Stop fretting, Paul.” Kyle tucked the folder under an arm as he plucked his coffee off the nearby table. “Have you disabled the room’s surveillance?”
“You won’t make me regret this favor, will you?”
With a wink, Kyle stepped to the door. “Why would you ask that?”
“Whatever speculation you two have is off the record.” The officer’s shoulders slumped, emphasizing his broad chest as a sigh rushed past his lips. He kicked the clean floor and stalked toward the open doorframe. “Just don’t leave bruises.”
“You’re worrying over nothing,” Kyle said, grasping the handle. With an impish grin, the investigator sipped his steaming coffee as he opened the door and sauntered inside. When the soft click shattered the terse stillness, he rounded the table and slid into the open chair. Kyle tossed the file in front of the bound individual while sipping his drink.
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Despite the ever-expanding collection of education, I’ve knuckled down to focus on the stories for my patrons. When I sat down to start drafting, I thumbed through the previous installments of Jessica’s life. Halfway through, I found what I was searching for, so I grabbed the character and searched for a way to bring him into her latest heist. While I toiled for the general shape of the tale, a fun memory flared to life. For those that have seen White Collar, you should remember the episode where Neil committed his crime while another thief was working and received the bulk of the attention. With that inspiration, my mind slid the competitor into Jessica’s latest job.
After disabling all the cameras in a museum, Jessica saunters through the empty halls where she stumbles onto someone from her past…
As a fleeting shadow glided through the empty hallways, a flickering pinprick of glittering gold cut through the darkness. When the ethereal visage stopped, Jessica emerged from the darkest swath of shadows and sauntered toward a glass case containing an eclectic collection of precious stones. While a golden rod flew about the woman’s fingers, she circled the display. After completing a few circuits of the displayed wealth, a sly smile tugged half her mouth while she tapped a cylinder against the protective barrier. “It’s a shame that I have other responsibilities staking their claim on me at the moment.”
“Who are you?”
The lithe woman pressed her fingertips to the mask, clutching her face as she turned to greet the mysterious stranger. “I’m afraid the rewards for tonight belong to me. Please leave so you do not embarrass yourself.”
A growl tore through the displays while the other thief’s fingers tightened into a dense fist. “I don’t care who you are, just step away from my haul.”
“Harrison, were you the one who disabled the cameras?”
The crook’s lips quivered as he marched to the displayed gemstones. “It’s good to know that my reputation is growing.”
“I won’t argue that its weight is expanding,” Jessica said with an exaggerated shrug. “Unfortunately for you, girth is no replacement for competence.”
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At the edge of the campsite, I discovered its boundary, a wooden fence racing through the bordering forest. Unfortunately, for this stretch, one end of a beam fell from its post and rested against the ground. Each time I pull this image up, the simplicity of the ground fills me to the brim, giving me a moment’s peace.
After arriving at a failed photography class, I was eager to capture a slice of nature’s beauty. A shot conversation later, I ended up at Kingstone Lake. As I strolled along the water, a collection of stones that resembled a cobblestone road plunging into the water’s depths.
The simplest of shifts can create wildly different results. After catching a snapshot of a winding road, I took a few more steps and recorded a bumpy road flanked by a pair of bare trees by the water.
There is something magical about watching ducks swim across a body of water. While anyone can float, it takes a certain amount of effort that ducks don’t have to waste. As they slice across the surface, waves ripple out behind them like an arrow piercing a mound of jello. So, when I found a pair of them swimming at Kingstowne Lake, I added them to my digital library, wishing for a telephoto lens for better shots.
You can’t go camping without lighting a fire. At least they go hand in hand as far as I’m concerned. While we built fires up in Niagara, we didn’t have color changing fire. Fortunately, when we rolled into the Gettysburg campsite, we had a couple of packages to add to our fire for a fun evening. Once added, green hues were added to the blaze. Watching the greenish tongues dance about was even more memorizing than traditional flames.
As the colors continued to flicker through the blaze, I took several pictures. And when I was searching for one to convert into watercolor, I couldn’t decide on a single image, so I grabbed another shot highlighting the navigating green hue. Watching the greenish tongues dance about was even more memorizing than traditional flames.
My curious mind never wants to rest. So, in-between the jaunts into Gettysburg, I meandered about the campsite. During one of those jaunts, I stumbled upon a tree with the sun hanging over it. When I captured the original image, there was plenty of extra sunlight washing over this tree. During the conversion into a watercolor, those extra sunbeams give the tree an ethereal glow.
During another jaunt through the campground, I came across some stuff bound up in one tree. Of course, the only thing that caught my eye was a car. While I couldn’t climb up to examine this model, my mind pulled up the flying car from Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets. As my mind pictured some children flying this through the campsite, I couldn’t help but immortalize this dangling car.
From atop one of Gettysburg’s hills, I stared out and took in the land’s beauty beneath me. For a moment, I pushed the history of the field from my mind and let the natural beauty to beauty infuse my mind. With each passing second, the beauty of the field stretching out before me seared itself into my mind. It took me a couple of seconds to remember that I was lugging my camera. Despite the beauty infusing my mind, I pulled my camera to my eye and captured this moment so I could share one of nature’s spectacular sights.
As we continued to survey the battlefield, a strange collection of trees caught my eye. When I took a moment to study the distant formation, I was floored by the layout. To one side, there was a small throng of trees and to the other, a small line of trees. For a moment it looked like a mamma elephant leading her wayward children back to the to the rest of the herd.
As we navigated the roads around the battlefield, we came upon a small collection of antique cannons. After a brief discussion, we found a place to park and hopped out to explore the collected artillery.
While I remember the name of the campground we stayed at for the Niagara portion of our trip, the same isn’t true for the Gettysburg campsite. However, the most memorable part of the campground was the water feature as you pull in. Besides the tiny waterfall, the front basin doubled as a wishing well.
On our way home from Niagara Falls, we made a slight detour to a campsite near the Gettysburg Battlefield. After a restful night’s sleep, rather than meandering about the battle site, we took an auto tour that provided us with tons of information, while allowing us to get about the grounds with our own vehicles. Throughout the drive, these simple wooden fences were everywhere. And sometimes, like this, nature is striving to overtake these old obstacles.
As I stood on a section of the battlefield and stared into the distance, my eyes lingered on the tree towering over the wooden fence line. Without conscious direction, my mind instantly wondered if this solitary tree witnessed the battle. And if so, how tall it was as lead and shrapnel flew across the field. As the seconds ticked away, my mind relinquished its search for these unattainable answers and settled for accepting its simplistic beauty.
As we continued walking around this portion of the battleground, I took a moment to relax in the shade before we returned to the car to continue the guided tour. With a cool breeze brushing past my face, I stared down its length. While the fence dwindled to a point, the approaching forest hung over the wooden beams, like a stomach bulging over a belt.
These “worm” or “snake” fences are fascinating structures. Because of their simplicity, they were a common sight during the time of the Civil War. According to some rudimentary research, they were commonly used to delineate property lines between farmers. However, when the skirmish came upon these simple structures, they turned from boundary markers into deadly obstacles. Yet now they add a rustic beauty to a simple landscape.
In the moments when I couldn’t see the stones at the foot of the falls, my head drifted, and I found people climbing a set of stairs. I don’t believe these were part of the Cave of the Winds’ tours. They’re on the wrong side of the falls for that. While I’m not sure where those stairs lead, the blue ponchos were a common sight everywhere we went. And in this image, they give the appearance of blue buds littering the shoreline.
When I took a knee and placed my camera through the bars of the safety railing, I was rewarded with a spectacular view of the Niagara’s edge. It’s amazing how the crystal clear water instantly transitions into whitewater as it leaps from the edge of the cliff. As I watched the endless gallons of water rush into the midair, the soothing sounds of the cascading water caressed my mind.
With a tiny shift in position, I captured a wonderful moment of the falls. On the left we have two spouts of water rushing off the cliff, and to the right you can see the massive bloom of mist coming from the Canadian side of the falls. Don’t get me wrong, there’s a nice bit of mist from the New York half, but with this angle and in this instant, the larger Canada’s portion of the waterfall was producing a larger vehicle for producing rainbows.
As I meandered around the resort’s pond, I couldn’t help but notice how crystal clear the water was. Thankfully, I captured a couple of images that highlighted the reflective capabilities of the pond’s surface. While we were at camp, there was a stretch of time where my daughter and I had a little time to ourselves, so she rushed to the zip line with her pair of tokens. Between her flights across the water, my eyes drifted across the water and lingered upon the buildings on the far side. Of course, the composition was completed with the reflection on the trees on the water’s surface.
After watching the fledgling narrative a few times, I plopped in front of my desk and allowed my eager fingers to dance on my keyboard. Despite eventually discovering a clear picture in my mind, this tale’s drafting process was more intensive than some of my other tales. Fortunately, when the last words tumbled out of my fingertips, I leaned against my chair and grinned. Find a comfortable chair as we follow Darren’s journey for forbidden knowledge.
As Darren explores one of the council’s libraries, a Hunter emerges from the shadows, seeking to punish the impudent rogue…
As Darren’s footfalls echoed off the weathered tiles, his fingertips traced the spines of the dusty leather tomes, creating a furrow in the layer of dust. When the young mage reached the end of the row, he paused, turning toward the collection. His chest swelled as his eyes swept across the titles lining the shelves. When he tugged the desired tome from its neighbors, the captured air flew through his lips while he thumbed through the tome’s secrets.
“You are a foolish child.”
Darren snapped the book shut as his legs tensed and a knee dropped to the ground. Once it touched a tile, he flung himself into a dense swatch of shadows. “Tell the council you couldn’t find me.”
“But I have.”
Darren inched through the darkness as his arm constricted around the liberated tome. “I’m not looking to duel anyone.”
“When it comes to performing my duties, your wants and desires mean nothing to me.” The Hunter stalked through the towering furniture as purple and emerald sparks erupted from his fingertips. “For use in your next life, rogue, if you don’t desire a quarrel with a Hunter, you shouldn’t flaunt your skills or enter their domain. Unfortunately for you, you’re guilty of both transgressions.”
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When Monday rolled around, I pulled the seed from my notes and a story wriggled its way from the depths of my mind. Despite a rough initial draft, the subsequent drafts flew from my fingertips.
Come, sit down and allow me to give you a mini-escape and kindle your imagination.
The scrawny figure kneeled beside the impressions, deftly tracing its edges with a fingertip. His head turned as a grunt cut through the awkward silence. “Do you think this is legitimate?”
“Travis, don’t forget that our runaway doesn’t have many options.” The second tracker squatted across from his companion, as his palms rose and fell like a set of scales, seeking an equilibrium. A click punctuated the outcome as his chest swelled. “However, he’s smarter than most of the staff he escaped.”
“Kevin, are you suggesting we ignore the obscured footprints?”
“No.”
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As the words flowed through my fingers, I plucked elements from fantasies and suspense tales to weave them into the narrative. Grab a chair and follow me as I detail Mathias’ journey with his companions as they search for a tribe of powerful warriors.
As Mathias leads his team through a forest seeking allies, various comrades vanish in the dense fog with every step…
“Why are we blindly marching through this fog infested forest?”
With a groan, the group’s leader stopped and turned around. The muscular man’s hands shot out like striking serpents capturing the questioner’s shirt. A harsh scoff tore through the forest’s din as he dragged the man across the foliage. “Kieran, let me explain our orders in the simplest terms. Emilie ordered us to find potential allies for the inevitable conflict with Nilus and the wanderer.”
As the forest’s sounds ebbed, the soldier’s eyes darted about the forest as he fought against his commander’s iron grasp. “Mathias, something’s tracking us from the trees.”
The leader’s scoff was punctuated by a series of creaking limbs. Despite the various groans and clicks emanating from the glade’s wildlife overlapping with the moaning trees, the muscular commander shoved his underling against a deteriorating trunk. “Kieren, don’t tell me you’re worried about losing the rest of our team?”
The other remaining soldier stepped forward and eased Mathias away from Kieran. “Mathias, please explain why you aren’t concerned about how something has plucked our companions from our midst without leaving a single shred of evidence.”
While the moans of the trees intensified, Mathias pressed a fingertip into Kieren’s chest as his eyes swept to the last member of his team. “Elliott, are you worried about this stretch of the forest?”
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As the Maid of the Mist turned in front of the most iconic section of Niagara Falls, I scurried over to the right side of the ship and captured this sight. As we neared the curtain of water, the mist grew thicker, washing over the boat and its passengers. Of all the angles I had of the Falls do flow through my mind, this is the image is the most vibrant.
Because this sight of the falls is so memorable, I took as many images as I could. Unfortunately, the device I was using was not as good as it once was. However, I was fortunate to capture this alternate view of the falls from water level.
Despite bringing you other angles of the falls, the ones from the observation deck are among the most iconic. While I didn’t find my way to the Canadian side of the massive waterfall, the deck from the New York side allowed me and my family to study the cascading water and the resulting clouds of mist that billowed from the river.
While on the mighty deck, you’re obviously going to study the cascading water. It’s the principal attraction, after all. However, it would be a mistake not to shift your gaze to the bottom of the falls, to study the collection of stones and boulders. Between the falling whitewater and its resulting mist, the stones were obfuscated from view. Thankfully, with careful observation, you’ll see them poking through the gaps. And the contrast is just as magnificent as the falls.
Come, sit down and allow me to give you a mini-escape and kindle your imagination.
As the emerald light swirled about the other six players, Marcus lifted the corner of his cards as he tapped a chip against the table. When he released the edges, he leaned forward, resting his chin on his interlaced fingers. “What’s required to continue?”
The officer sitting across from Marcus thumped his hand as his thin smile intensified, revealing deep dimples. “It’s two hundred to you.”
The verdant motes stopped their dance and raced behind the smirking cop, coalescing into a solid form. “Despite holding trip sevens, Harrison will fold if you can convince him the river netted you a flush.”
Marcus piled several chips into a pair of stacks and slowly tapped each one as his eyes locked onto Benjamin’s. “I don’t need your suggestions.”
“The bet wasn’t a suggestion.”
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While we marched back to the elevator, I caught sight of some saplings attempting to block the sight of the river beneath the falls. As the rest of my family continued on their march, I took a moment and framed up the larger of the infant trees. Hopefully, you’ll get the same enjoyment from the sight that I got the moment my eyes fell upon them.
Just before we reentered the gorge for the elevator, I turned back to the river to capture the last sight of the water tinged with the whitewater caused by the cascading falls.
After we finished exploring the Cave of the Winds, we hustled to the next step of our exploration, the Maid of the Mist. This is another staple of any trip to Niagara Falls. Once the boat reaches capacity, it departs, taking everyone on a remarkable journey. While the boat doesn’t go behind the cascading waters, it does bring you right up to the waterfall’s edge.
However, before we reached the turning point, a rainbow appeared on the left side of the vessel. While the rainbow is very faint in this image, the edge of the falls is truly remarkable from the perspective of this brief tour.
Grab a chair and get comfortable as Gregor shows Ramas why he’s such a fierce warrior.
After securing Gregor, Ramas escorts the former general to Nilus’ home, only to be ambushed by some of Emilie’s soldiers…
Gregor tapped his foot against the earthen disc as the ground blurred beneath him. “When do you think Emilie will begin her offensive?”
“I’ve been running across her soldiers for a while now,” Ramas said as he went to a knee. Instantly, their palanquins slowed to a crawl and settled upon the earth. While the daises disappeared into the ground, Ramas rose to his feet and rolled his shoulders, unleashing a series of cracks. “It’s one of the more poignant reasons we sought you out.”
“Does Emilie know you were searching for me?”
“Gregor, I didn’t find you right away.” Ramas dragged his heel against the impacted dirt, creating a rough circle. “As a result, there’s a chance she knows about you.”
“That should make this jaunt interesting.” Gregor ran his fingers through his hair as his pack slid down his other arm. “How many soldiers have you and Nilus recruited to your cause?”
With a shrug, Ramas snapped, and several small rocks emerged from the scuffed ground. Once the last stone slid into the empty spot, completing the ring, a collection of splintered wood erupted from the earth. “I’m certain the recruitment will ramp up once you’ve trained the initial batch.”
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With high hopes, Jarvis enters Cecile’s laboratory seeking weapons to deal with the appearance of the horde’s flying creatures. However, the constant burden of dealing with the harsh planet has stretched her to the breaking point.
Grab a chair and read the latest snippet of Jarvis and his crew.
Jarvis shouldered Cecile’s laboratory open and sauntered inside. “What are you doing?”
“I’m twiddling my thumbs while the devastating horde amasses for its latest assault.”
“Your sarcasm doesn’t help.”
Cecile’s eyes peered over the table, fire burning behind them. “Don’t you have other things to deal with besides bothering me?” Cecile cocked her head, leaving one narrowed eye visible. “Like dealing with the influx of our newest allies?”
As his teeth ground together, Jarvis’s fist collided with the metallic doorframe. He took a few deep breaths as he brushed his reddened fingers. “Cecile, I require your cooperation, not your flippant attitude.”
Her hands shot over her head as her lips slammed shut, stifling a scream. When she stood, she rested her palms on the counter, and her fingertips started tapping a soothing melody. “I’m busy trying to discover other means of defending this outpost.” She gestured at the half-finished experiments scattered throughout her lab and eased her fists against the table. Seconds later, a series of cracks filled the laboratory. “I doubt the cobbled together plasma cannons will be sufficient.”
“I seem to remember you crafted those with relative ease,” Jarvis said, crossing his arms.
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Come, sit down and allow me to give you a mini-escape and kindle your imagination.
Lucas eased his utensils onto his plate. “How was dinner?”
“It was wonderful,” Elouise said, dabbing her mouth as she plucked her wine from the table. As her lips stretched into a warm smile, she inhaled the fruity notes wafting up from the swirling ruby liquid. “I had a marvelous time.”
“Excellent,” Lucas said, while topping off his drink. When the wine stopped flowing, an ethereal hand yanked it from Lucas’ grasp.
“What’s that?”
Lucas snatched the bottle from the shade and slammed it onto the table. “That’s the beginning of a topic I was trying to postpone a little longer.”
“I’m listening.”
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As we began our climb, the catwalk snaked around the rocky surface, creating numerous miniature waterfalls, all fed from the cascading water of the main Falls. Besides the flowing water, the greenery blooming from the stones created a truly unique landscape that never fails to remind me of the wonder I experience walking along that misty path.
As we wound our way along the catwalk, a portion of the cascading waters came into view over the vegetation. The roar of the rushing whitewater is a memory that still sends chills rushing down my spine. However, instead of fear or dread inspiring them, it was the awe from nature’s display of power.
As we neared the observation deck, the major portion of the falls flowing over Goat Island came into view. As the mist from the falls washed over us, I was awestruck at the majesty of the Niagara Falls. Watching the water cascade off the rocky shores was something that I’ll carry with me for the rest of my life.
After leaving the main observation deck, I turned back to capture another sight of the cascading waters. Of course, with the constant misting, I quickly turned and rushed toward dryer portions of the catwalk. Once we were free from the constant misting, I thumbed back to the image and smiled as I witnessed the water tumbling past a beautiful patch of foliage.
In a world of 4K resolutions, this might seem like a ludicrous question. However, I’d consider it to be even more important since our entertainment’s resolution increases with each passing day. To highlight this paradox, I’m going to reach into the depths of my mind to dust off a rough scene. While I cannot remember which series (though I want to say it’s from the Wheel of Time) let alone the specific book that I’m referencing, the rough shape seared itself into my mind.
The important details of this study revolve around a prisoner and a handful of allies. The detained individual has crucial information and, as you would expect, he’s unwilling to share the specifics. Enter one an ally who watched the events unfold. While he stares at the enemy, this individual starts rattling off a list of things he’ll need to torture the information out of the enemy. Before anyone could retrieve the first item from the list, the required information started flowing from the enemy’s lips.
After other allies dragged the captive off, another stepped forward, asking what he planned on doing. The response was something like I don’t know. They’ve never forced me to come up with something, since their own minds come up with the worst potential outcome.
That back-and-forth highlight the power of imagination. Specifically, it explains why too much detail is dangerous to storytelling. The medium of the story is irrelevant. If the storyteller shoves too much detail into a scene, they risk losing the interest of the audience. For example, in a horror movie, if it relies on an excess of violence, there will be those who just aren’t affected. However, if the scene hints at the potential violence through the reaction of key characters, it allows each member of the audience to craft their own version of the scene.
In our endeavors to chase hyper realism in our entertainment, producers and storytellers have forgotten the most important tool in their arsenal. Like the above hero, storytellers need to lean on the active imagination of their audience, rather than trying to spoon feed the audience every conceivable detail.
]]>While I’ve never been shamed like that by a teacher or professor, sometimes I had to swallow my pride and met with them to discuss the gaps in my understanding. So, I leaned into the memories to craft this narrative.
Come, sit down and allow me to give you a mini-escape and kindle your imagination.
“Your lectures aren’t progressing swiftly enough.”
As her lips curled into a sly smile, Tiatha laid her book down and swiveled in her seat. “It’s nice to see you devoted to your education, Kellam.”
The student rubbed the back of his neck as his eyes fell. “Being humiliated is excellent motivation.”
A soft chuckle rolled from Tiatha’s mouth as her fingertips drummed against the hardened leather cover. When the last echo of mirth died, she snapped, and a chair slithered across the floor. “What are you looking for?”
Kellam’s gaze rose to Tiatha’s. “Your hidden knowledge.”
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As I finished exploring the resort, I came upon this section of the pond. As I stood upon the patch of earth jutting into the water, I stared across the water, studying the sight. While little blossoms littered the edge of the mini-peninsula, a gentle breeze created small ripples on the pond’s surface. Of course, as they receded into the distance, they vanished from my sight, resulting in a mirror-like surface. That apparently calm patch of water provided a partial reflection of the far side of the pond. The partial symmetry provides me with a wondrous image of reflection.
Any vacation is always limited. In fact, that’s the very definition of a vacation. However, my 2019 trip was split between Niagara Falls and Gettysburg. As a result, we crammed a lot of the sights for the Falls into those few days as we could. One destination we explored was the Cave of the Wind. One of the biggest memories revolving that trip was the long elevator trips up and down the falls.
Once we were at the bottom, we navigated the path, getting a wonderful image of the bottom of the falls. While I walked along the catwalks, I noticed a single bird staring out on the water, like a sullen child looking for a better prize. And for those with sharp eyes, you’ll notice a boat in the background, getting ready to approach the cascading waters of the falls.
As I continued following the trail leading to the Cave of the Wind, I noticed this little rocky patch of the shoreline. The juxtaposition of the bursting collection of yellow buds was a wonderful juxtaposition of the rocky shore.
The trail for the Cave of the Winds is long and twisting. At one point, as we neared the falling water, the wooden catwalk was buttressed against a stony outcropping. However, this memory was collected because of the churning whitewater flowing around the stones and walkway as it joined the calm water of the river flowing away from the Falls.
Find a comfortable chair and witness Darren’s flight from a Hunter seeking to capture him.
Ducking under low branches and hopping over scattered boughs, Darren is fleeing the wrath of a Hunter. Will his race result in freedom…
As Darren raced through the dense foliage, his foot landed on a fallen bough while ducking under a dangling branch. Instantly, his leg went out from under his body. When his face slammed into the root ridden ground, an explosion erupted over him, showering him with pulp and bark. With a swallowed curse, he clambered to his feet and dashed into the forest. “You weren’t even close!”
“I only need to land a single blow to end this chase.”
With a grunt, Darren punched the devastated trunk and the upper portion of the tree toppled over, crashing into the ground. “That might frighten me if you could strike a broadside of a mountain.”
A figure emerged from the forest’s shadow, cutting off Darren’s escape. The muscular Hunter stepped forward as the smirk slathered on his face widened. “Haven’t you grown tired of running?”
Darren’s eyes flicked from the distant Hunter to an oddity obscured by the relentless Hunter’s bulk. Despite the obstruction, his unwilling gaze studied the visibly ornate carvings that decorated the thick doorframe. With a gasp, Darren tore his attention from the strange door and pressed his back to another tree. “You know, I could ask you the same question.”
“While every rogue starts with your enthusiasm, by the end of the chase, it’s evaporated, since none has ever escaped our justice.” He lifted a finger glowing white and blue. “Last chance for some mercy.”
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Instantly, the story that bloomed in my mind revolved around the lineage of Tiatha and Leodor and the creation of the ruling council and their Hunters.
The elderly man’s head turned over his shoulder as the pounding intensified. With a snarl, his fingers twitched over the flipping pages of his floating tome. Between each crash, a page tore free from the binding and swirled about the frantic mage, joining the others whipping about him. As the flock of papers whipped about his twitching brow, light consumed the scribbled words. When the glow enveloped each sheet, they popped out of existence.
“Thobin,” a husky voice said as a mighty thud punctuated the wizard’s name. “Open the door!”
The man’s steely gaze whipped toward the strange voice as his fingers continued their dance over the whirling pages. Between thumps, Thobin’s grinding teeth rebounded off the walls as he widened his stance. “This isn’t going to end well for you!”
“By a unanimous decree of the ruling council,” the gruff voice said as the pounding increased, “you are required to surrender yourself and all of your tomes to our authority.”
A swirling wind whipped about Thobin, throwing his long graying hair about his head. As more pages tore from the tome, he rolled his shoulders, sending a series of cracks bouncing off the walls. “I neither respect that institution nor you. Enter at your own peril.”
As the pounding gave way to cracking, a feminine voice sliced through the din. “Thobin, you can’t win this fight. However, if you submit yourself to our authority, you’ll be rewarded with a place on the council.”
“Bah!” Thobin’s whirling fingers intensified as the pages continued, ripping free from the tome. When the last page freed itself, Thobin turned to the cracking door as he clasped his hands behind his back. When his hair settled about his shoulders, his fingertips glowed with a warm yellow light. “If you turn around now, I’ll have mercy on both of you.”
“We’re the best wizards next to the council,” the original voice said. “You can’t survive a confrontation with us.”
Laughter bubbled out of Thobin’s mouth as the glow raced up his arms. “If you enter my chambers, I’ll make you regret your existence.”
“We will perform our duty to the council.”
The elderly mage’s scowl deepened as he inclined his head. “Such is the fate of fools.”
The door blew off its hinges and spiraled away from Thobin to crash into the far wall as the last page vanished. A lean man sauntered into the private chamber. “You brought this on yourself.”
“No,” Thobin said as his body blurred. He crossed the distance in the blink of an eye and slammed both hands into their chests. The yellow glow flooded into their bodies. Thobin smirked as he brushed his shoulder. “Unfortunately for you, I’m more skilled than the pompous fools who sentenced you to death.”
He reached up and patted the male intruder’s cheek. “It’s unfortunate that you allowed those idiots to warp your understanding of reality.” With a sigh, Thobin’s fingers began to glow with a pale verdant light. He closed his eyes and pressed his fingertip against Owyn’s forehead. “While this won’t kill you, don’t consider it an act of mercy.”
The green illumination flowed onto Owyn and wrapped around the man like a snake winding about its prey. When the light enveloped the intruder, it exploded, washing over everything in the room. Once the extraneous light diminished, Thobin turned his attention to the remaining trespasser and traced her lips with his thumb.
“What happened to Owyn?”
Thobin pressed a fingertip against her mouth as his eyes narrowed to slits. “Vonora, I did not allow you to speak just to be inundated with useless questions.”
“But you killed him.”
Thobin’s finger whitened as he leaned next to Vonora’s ear. “While I didn’t kill him, I suspended him in time for a thousand years.”
“What?”
The elderly mage stepped back, clasping his hands. “After ten centuries, the spell’s strength over him shall wane and he’ll reenter the world.”
“He’s going to live?”
“Owyn has been removed from time’s steady march, so the next time his feet tread upon the ground, his physical body won’t be any different from what it was today.”
“What’s going to happen to him?”
With a chuckle, Thobin flicked Vorona’s nose as his lips curled into a smirk. “Unfortunately, the only difference will be the loss of his magical abilities, since my spell will devour them to sustain itself.”
“When he finally breaks free, he’ll be a regular person?”
Thobin’s grin intensified as he nodded. “Vonora, let me be blunt. I don’t need you to deliver my message to the council. If you do not stop annoying me, you’ll share in Owyn’s punishment. Do you understand?”
“Yes.”
“Excellent.” Thobin’s chest expanded as a silence wrapped around the two mages. When he released the pent-up breath, he flicked her forehead. “Inform every member of this foolish body that each Hunter they send after me will suffer Owyn’s fate.”
“Is that all?”
“I wasn’t done.”
“Sorry.”
Thobin reached out, cupping the woman’s cheek. “Before they launch into their inevitable and pointless questions, advise them that despite my vast patience, it isn’t infinite. If I have to consistently deal with these intrusions, my frustration will win out, and I’ll return to punish them for their ceaseless and petulant behavior.”
A lump slid down Verona’s throat as her eyes stretched into small plates. “If I pass that ultimatum on to the council, they’ll execute me for treason.”
As the mage’s hand glowed white, he pressed his palm against her chest. “Then you’ll have to decide whether you’d rather die as a wizard or live as a human after losing a thousand years. Because if I’m angered, I’ll become your hunter before turning my attention to them.”
“That’s not much of an option.”
“Make your decision,” Thobin said as the intense spark crashed into Vonora. When she collided with the far wall, she slid down the smooth stone and vanished before collapsing on the floor. “Hopefully, your choice will be the correct one.”
]]>With all the pieces in place, my fingers danced upon the keyboard to craft a slight variation of a mystery. So, grab a comfortable seat and join me on Kyle’s latest journey to find the truth.
After helping to convict a murderer, Kyle Rickman probes the unanswered questions from the trial to help keep the murderer behind bars…
“Mr. Rickman,” the woman lounging in a chair said as her cold blue eyes bored through the investigator’s chest, “since the trial finished, why are you here wasting my money?”
The investigator wriggled into the warm leather of his chair as he raised his glass to his nose. After taking a deep whiff, he swirled the pale liquid. When the drink stopped sloshing about, he lowered the cup to his thigh. “While I’m sorry to force you to relive the painful memories of your husband’s murder once more, there are a few details that need to be clarified, Mrs. Williams.”
“Considering that the murderer was convicted,” she said brushing her clean leg, “what issues are still outstanding?”
With a stoic face, Kyle sipped his drink. “The lemonade is quite wonderful. Fortunately, my visit will be brief.”
“Mr. Rickman, this meeting is already too lengthy.”
Kyle placed a fingertip against the glass’ rim, tracing its length. “I only have a couple of questions.”
The widow folded her hands onto her lap as her tongue rubbed the tip of her teeth. “Hasn’t the individual responsible for my husband’s death been convicted?”
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Amidst the merriment, two mighty tankards, bursting with the sweet brew, were shoved in front of Jarvis and Fenton. While Fenton’s slight fingers shot out like snakes, wrapping about the smooth wooden grain, Jarvis pushed his stein away as a groan emerged from his throat.
As laughter boomed throughout the hall, Ferrek down the last of his ale. With a belch, the dwarf slammed the empty mug on the table as his mouth curled into a devilish grin. “Bring me another!”
With trembling fingers, Jarvis slid his drink toward his guide. “Here’s a fresh one for you.”
The dwarven king leaned forward, placing a thick finger against Jarvis’s tankard as his lips drew to a thin line. With a gentle push, the stein reversed its course, stopping just in front of the human leader. The meaty digit bounced against the stein’s rim as Gilras’ eyes darkened. “It’s impolite to refuse a drink offered freely.”
“I wasn’t trying to offend.”
With a hearty snap, Gilras cleared his throat. “The only excuse not to partake is that something is wrong with what’s been given.”
Fenton’s lips spread wide as he lifted his fresh mug. “I’ve never tasted a better brew.”
“Agreed,” Jarvis said, pulling the tankard away from the king’s fingers. “Unfortunately, I don’t share your constitution. I’m afraid if I enjoy any more of this marvelous ale, I wouldn’t be able to continue our conversation.”
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Come, sit down and allow me to give you a mini-escape and kindle your imagination.
As the door cracked open, raindrops rolled off a man’s chin. With a smile, he released the heavy knocker, letting it collide with its metal plate. However, the security chain kept the gap from expanding. The rain-soaked fellow pressed his face against the opening. “Won’t you let me in?”
“Why would I invite you inside?”
The soaking individual pounded his fists against the wall as his eyes narrowed. “How about because you’re my brother and the massive thunderstorm?”
“That’s irrelevant, since I don’t like you.”
A lightning bolt illuminated the night sky.
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Whenever the sun crosses the horizon, there is the potential for something special. The beams of light twist through the atmosphere, and you’re treated to a wondrous array of colors. In this example, I was standing on the sailboat’s deck as I witnessed the end of the sun’s journey. May this blending of radiant colors soothe your racing mind and give you a moment’s peace.
Back in August 2019, I dusted off my Nikon D300 and packed it away for my trip to Niagara Falls. After a long drive, my daughter and I joined my fiancé and her family at the Branches of Niagara Campground. Once we got settled, I meandered around the resort, taking in its beauty, including the pond at its center.
As I emerged from the camping section of the resort, the cabins positioned at the pond’s shore provided a wonderful highlight to the clear waters. However, when I came to a stop on the gentle slope of a hill, with the trees on the far side of the water, I couldn’t help but to capture the sight.
Whenever I pull this sight up, I’m whisked back to this summer’s day and the tranquility it provided.
Upon my initial exploration of the Branches of Niagara Campground, I discovered something that would provide me with years of relaxation. Despite the simplicity of a chair positioned under a tree’s canopy, the view from that chair was magical. Not only did the shadows provide me with comfort on a warm August day, but the position on the pond’s shore provided me with a stunning view of the forest enclosing the resort. While the Falls were the highlight of the trip, this slice of serenity was a close second.
Simple stones can provide endless relief. If they weren’t, Zen Rock Gardens wouldn’t have wriggled their way into the world’s landscape. While I’m not fully aware of all the symbolism of rocks in those gardens, that doesn’t mean I cannot appreciate their beauty. While the stones in the above image aren’t positioned on a patch of pebbles or sand, they are in a sea of tall grass peppered with white blossoms. Every time I stare into this composition, the sight erodes the mounting stress coursing and building up throughout my body.
Thankfully, those exceptionally long days are completed and I’ve been able to complete Ramas’ latest tale. So, find a comfortable chair and curl up as you explore this latest journey.
After following Nilus’ command, Ramas located the former tactician’s home and without waiting, he barged inside to recruit Gregor Attwood…
Ramas ambled to the simple building and pressed his fingertips against the wall. “Nilus, I hope you’re right about him.” The wanderer sucked down a mouthful of cool air as he flung the door open and sauntered through the doorway. “I’ve come to speak with Gregor Attwood.”
“That would be me,” a thick bodied individual said as he stepped into the doorframe at the other end of the foyer. The man rubbed his chin as he leaned against the wooden frame. “Unfortunately, I don’t welcome strangers into my home, and since you’re hiding behind a helmet, that includes you. However, given that you have already violated my will, I’ll settle for learning who you are and why you’ve chosen to waste my time.”
A sigh rushed past the wanderer’s lips as he closed the entrance. “Is such disrespect to someone with the cursed sight a wise decision?”
The burly man chuckled as he sauntered across the small chamber, stopping within arm’s reach of the wanderer. “Anyone can claim that they carry the curse from that war.”
Ramas’ mouth curled into a predatory grin behind his helmet as he placed his wrists against his back. “You doubt me.”
“Wouldn’t you question wild accusations like this if you were me?”
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And while none of the crew of the Drifter II would enter or try to find a casino as it sails through the galaxy, there are some members of the Scythe who have some wiggle room for the embellishment.
Come, sit down and allow me to give you a mini-escape and kindle your imagination.
Harlan’s fingers pressed against Franco’s cheek, forcing his gaze toward the large timepiece hanging from the roof. “Don’t you think it’s time to leave?”
“Contrary to our friends aboard the Scythe, I never forget my obligations.” Franco batted Harlan’s hand from his face as he tossed the dice. “Fortunately, it’s time for a bit of fun.”
“You’re pressing your luck.”
The two cubes bounced off the felt-lined table and when they came to a rest, Franco’s smile stretched towards his ears, threatening to cleave his head in two. “We can’t leave while I’m on a roll.”
As the jolly man reached out to collect his winnings, a simple cane pinned his hands to the table. “A moment, sir.”
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When we found the Sapona’s anchor, a small school of yellowish fish swam past the hunk of metal. As I drew closer, I saw the beginnings of coral claiming the anchor as its own.
Despite the addition of a vessel to the ocean, we could locate a patch of ocean floor with waving seaweed. As I watched the vegetation sway along with the current, another school of fish swept through the soft branches.
With such a shallow dive, I had lots of time to explore the site. Eventually, I came upon this bit of the site where the school congregated. The fish flowed through the opening as if they were being shot through a hose.
After having educated her students and the Academy’s professors, Tiatha’s brother gave her a private rebuke, but Volodar wasn’t satisfied with the results. After a long day, Tiatha creates a portal to her home in the wilderness, and the impugned instructor follows her through the mafic gateway.
Come, sit down and allow me to give you a mini-escape and kindle your imagination.
As the glow from Tiatha’s portal vanished, she stared into the forest’s depths as she halted. “Volodar, is this course of action wise?”
“You insulted me.”
The lithe woman shook her head as a sigh escaped her lips. “Only ignorance considers education to be insulting.”
Volodar grasped Tiatha’s arm and whirled her about. “You’ll pay for humiliating me.”
“You pompous fool.” Taitha’s right index finger ran up the teacher’s forearm, coming to a stop once it hovered over Volodar’s heart. “The rest of the Academy didn’t object to the lesson.”
Volodar’s free hand curled into a fist as his brow furrowed. “The other professors aren’t willing to cross Leodar.”
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Thankfully, with the base of the story firmly entrenched, I spun it about and let the micro tale develop. After a few passes, I incorporated the elements from the dice with the dire surroundings stored away in my mind, to produce a miniature action horror tale for anyone who buys me a croissant.
Come, sit down and allow me to give you a mini-escape and kindle your imagination.
As a beam of light sliced through the starless sky, its bearer crept across the barren field. When he neared the solitary building, his head whipped about. “Who’s there?”
His companion hunched his shoulders as he inched closer. “Henry, the only fools crossing this wasteland are us.”
The twitchy fellow’s gaze bounced about the desolate surrounding as he pressed his back against the deteriorating stone. “Couldn’t you hear that?”
“You’re imagining things.”
“Jameson,” Henry said as the narrow beam swept across the wretched ground. “We’re not alone.”
Henry’s companion turned around and brushed his friend’s shoulders. Releasing a pent-up breath, he pulled Henry close. “It’s been centuries since anything roamed this patch of earth.”
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As we were making our way out of the water, we paused at the five-foot depth for our safety check. While we waited for the pressure to equalize, I looked down and saw one of the Caribbean Reef sharks streak across the bottom of the ocean. Thankfully, my limbs reacted to the racing neurons, and I managed to position my camera to capture the retreating predator.
The last dive of the cruise was a wreck dive. Though it wasn’t what you might be thinking. The Sapona sank in shallow water, leaving it partially submerged. In fact, just before we hopped in the water, the divemaster revealed his plan for the dive, which historically sketched out the site’s layout, was simply an arrow pointing to the wreck and the name of the skeletonized ship, Sapona. Since the ship was jutting out of the water, I pulled my camera out of its housing and immortalized the wreck in my mind.
Considering my decision, I sat down behind my computer and started fleshing out the genres and rough ideas for March’s micro fiction. Once the seeds were planted, my mind shifted to the month’s initial narrative. Fresh from his conversation with Nilus, Ramas has resumed his wandering. A few days later, his messenger delivers a leather tube from Nilus. After his messenger left, Ramas gathers the required firewood to perform the sending.
Come, sit down and allow me to give you a mini-escape and kindle your imagination.
Flames erupted from the prepared logs as the wanderer waved his hands over them. After a few heartbeats, smoke rose from the wood while Ramas withdrew a leather tube. With each passing second, the inferno intensified as his milky-white eyes lingered on the tube’s decorations. When the blaze settled, Ramas wrenched the cylinder in half and tossed both into the fire.
“What kept you?”
“I wasn’t dawdling,” Ramas said, removing his helm and tucking it under an arm. “Stop being so obstinate, Nilus. Who do I have to recruit?”
A gust of wind rippled Nilus’ smoky construct as its head swept back and forth. “By chance, you’re wandering near a respected military advisor from the wizard’s war.”
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As the feeding frenzy built, I turned my camera to the line running up from the central hunk of coral. And captured an image filled to the brim of sharks seeking their share of the feed. Whenever I close my eyes and think about this trip, this is the image that comes to mind. As a result, I wanted to make this watercolor rendition pop. So, when I finished the transformation, I turned my attention to the creating a frame to make it pop.
As the frenzy calmed down, a few of the sharks kept circling the line. Despite the number of predators decreasing, they continued to provide me with amazing pictures of the watery depths.
Despite having a collection of amazing pictures from this dive, I’m never able to keep every shot firmly entrenched in my mind, resulting in some of the more interesting pictures being forgotten about. So when I sat down to thumb through them this time, I stumbled upon one that’s more remarkable than I remembered. After the sharks finished eating, they dispersed, and as one of the solitary predators swam past us, I whirled and pulled the camera up to capture the fleeing shark. While I focused on the animal, I missed the fact that I included a sliver of another diver as he watched the shark speed into the depths.
Before the divemaster released us to search the ground for shark teeth, one of the last predators took one more pass over the central hunk of coral. Once it realized that the food was gone, I left my patch of the U-shaped outcropping and ran my finger through the silt, discovering two teeth. When I cracked open my dive log, I smiled at the solitary tooth held within.
In this entry to the Drifter’s logs, the crew will deal with ethereal creatures from a nebula and the defense provided by Selina’s concoctions.
Slip into a comfortable chair and get ready to follow the crew of the Drifter II, defend themselves from non-corporeal creatures.
After fending off an attacker, the Drifter II enters a nebula to hide while they perform necessary repairs, when ghostly creatures invade…
As sparks erupted from the console over Lucille’s head, the pilot’s gaze whirled toward the vanishing flashes. “We can’t continue to push the Drifter past her limits!”
“What would you like us to do?”
“Stop picking fights with every vessel we come across!”
With a grunt, Charles’ fingers danced across his controls. “I’m not exactly searching for fights.”
“You don’t do much to avoid them.” Lucille’s eyes narrowed as she ground her teeth. “But right now, I’ll settle for finding a place to hide while you fix this flying deathtrap!”
“She doesn’t mean it,” the captain said while running a hand across the Drifter’s hull.
A snort erupted from Lucille’s lips as her eyes narrowed into slits. “Don’t tell me what I meant!”
Charles scoffed as he leaned over his console and pointed toward the whirling pinkish hues of the nebula hanging on the other side of the cockpit’s viewport. “Why don’t you pull us into the heart of that swirling ball of gas?”
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And just like that, the story’s core tumbled from my mind. As the narrative played out, I saw some influences of an episode of Leverage where Nathan Ford entered a chess tournament. As he progressed through the matches, one of his opponents was sleeping. But every time Nathan pressed the clock, the man would wake up and instantly make his move. The indifference of the sleeping master tickled my fancy. As a result, I began weaving these three elements into my final micro tale for February.
Come, sit down and allow me to give you a mini-escape and kindle your imagination.
“Max, is your opponent actually sleeping?”
Zzzzzz!
“I can’t tell, Mike.” Maxwell’s gaze rose from the chessboard while his shoulders climbed toward the clouds hanging over them. “Though if you see a move that I’m missing, I’d appreciate the help.”
“What are you looking for?”
“Something he hasn’t thought of.”
Michael cupped a hand around his chin as he knelled. “I don’t think you have one.”
Zzzzzz!
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The first thing I saw when I stepped upon Neabsco Regional Park’s boardwalk was a beaver dam with water crashing over the blockage’s ledge. While I loved that initial view, it wasn’t until I finished my loop that I discovered a better view of the animal’s efforts. In order to grab this image’s original photograph, I needed to inch toward the stream’s edge to preserve the best angle of the water cascading through the debris.
Despite growing up in Woodbridge, there are too many parks or walking trails I’ve never visited when I was younger. As a result, when I got to Neabsco Regional Park, I didn’t know what to expect. After walking through the asphalt path, I saw the sprawling wooden bridge that sprawled across the wetlands. After taking some pictures of the beaver dam right next to the boardwalk, I enjoyed the brief stroll and stopped to capture a stretch of the upcoming walkway and the winding stream.
During my stroll along Neabsco Regional Park’s boardwalk, I noticed that a group of ducks (or more accurately, a Paddling of Ducks). Unfortunately, I did not have a zoom lens that would have let me take a close-up photo of these majestic creatures. As a result, I quickened my pace and went to a location that gave me a better shot. After collecting the photo that served as this image’s base, I tried to get even closer. Unfortunately, as I stepped through the foliage, the ducks took to the sky, leaving an empty patch of water.
While this wasn’t the first submerged (or partially submerged) vehicle I’ve explored, it was the ever present schools of fish that I remember without looking at my pictures. This one focuses on the side of the ship as a school weaves through the trio of columns formed from the ship’s hull.
Despite the purpose of the trip being diving, there was plenty of time where we were lounging about the boat. One of the side effects of diving is a buildup of nitrogen in the bloodstream. And in order to remain safe, we have to let the excess gasses bleed out of our bodies. So during one of those stretches, I spent a lot of time staring into the endless ocean. On one of those occasions, I saw the sun peeking through a patch of clouds. The radiance of the beams of light made me smile. Hopefully, it can lighten your day as well.
In life, there are a handful of memories that sear themselves into your mind. One of mine was the first time I breathed underwater. Despite the controlled environment, an inflatable pool that was no deeper than my waist, it was a magical moment when I sat under the water and breathed as if the water was submerged. With that magical memory pulsating in my mind, I ensured that my first digital camera, a Nikon point and shoot, could join me on my underwater adventures.
After testing the underwater housing, I took it on my scuba cruise in the Caribbean, Blackbeard Cruises. Unfortunately, the bulk of those initial pictures weren’t the best. Of course, that was when I remembered to bring the camera or turn it on. However, while we were at one of the early dive sights, the divemaster told us to hop in and explore without our tanks. During that jaunt, I captured an image of a white fish with yellow fins swimming along the ocean floor. DM me if you know what kind of critter I captured.
Even without a tank providing me with a steady supply of air, I was eager to explore the site. So, I meandered on the surface and when I found a patch of coral that I wanted to explore, I took a deep breath and shot into the depths. On one of my trips to the ocean floor, I caught sight of some small yellow fish disappearing into the expansive coral. However, as I drew closer, I noticed the patch of living rock wasn’t attached to the sandy bottom, letting these tiny fish seek protection from potential predators.
After the divemaster helped pull up the sailboat’s anchor, we were taken from site to site. Unfortunately, on the next dive or two, I was so caught up in the dives that I forgot to bring my camera. However, when we came to Eagle’s Nest, not only did I remember my camera, I turned it on before diving into the ocean. While this patch of water contained a lot of coral, both soft and hard, my basic camera and housing took pictures I wasn’t able to convert into watercolor rendition, while keeping its beauty. Thankfully, despite my amateurish attempt to capture the beauty of the depths, I coaxed one of the better shots of the sea floor out of my camera during this dive.
Despite an abundance of coral on this site, my buddy and I went to the site’s edge and when we got there, I saw a strange fish swimming through the swaying seaweed. Fortunately, I could capture the odd swimmer. The most distinctive part of the fish’s anatomy appeared to be the sole of a shoe attached to its head. I’m sure someone from the crew told me what kind of fish it was, but as the years marched on, that memory faded into oblivion. Either way, when I look at this image, I’m pulled through time and space and dropped into the middle of the ocean with this guy swimming beneath me.
One thing I learned on this trip was just how extensive coral is in the ocean. When the boat dropped anchor at Tripple Seven, we were treated to an extensive strip of twisting coral that presented us with an interesting avenue to swim through. As I rose from the outcropping, I was presented with an amazing view that looked like a mountain range. As I hovered in place, I saw a handful of fish swimming over the outcropping like birds soaring over a mountain range.
Towards the end of my Tripple Seven dive, I stumbled upon some seaweed attached to the coral. As the underwater current swept through the site, it caught the plant whipping it this way and that. Fortunately, I was able to capture the flowing vegetation to anchor my memory of the drive.
The most memorable dive of my trip was the shark dive at Bull Run. This patch of the ocean had a unique coral layout. There were two major components to the site. The first bit of coral formed a giant U. Each of the divers were placed against the outcropping so we could stare at the central bit of living stone, where there was an eyelet driven into it. That bit of metal served as the anchor to the chum line that attracted and fed the Caribbean Reef Sharks.
Once the sharks caught a whiff of the blood, they swarmed the bait and started feeding. Here is one of the first elegant predators that I caught sight of.
As the seconds ticked by, my head was whipping about, searching for every shark that came to partake in the feast. Unfortunately, the sharks captured in some of my pictures blended perfectly into the ocean and, as a result, they’re hard to see. Fortunately, this image captured a shark as it swam unfazed through the air bubbles emanating from the other divers.
In previous tales, I’ve only hinted at her use of magic. As a result, when it came time to visit this ship again, I pushed myself to develop a couple of storylines to highlight her ability arts that fall outside of science’s realm.
Come, sit down and allow me to give you a mini-escape and kindle your imagination.
As the door slid open, Lucille leaned against the opening, crossing her arms over her chest. She jerked her chin at the table tucked away in the corner of Selina’s quarters. “What are you concocting?”
“Lucille, why are you pestering me?”
With a sigh, the younger woman sauntered into Selina’s room. “Charles is wondering why you haven’t left the ship, despite the recent stations possessing the exotic goods you prefer.”
The frail woman’s eyes rose from her cauldron as she dropped a handful of debris into the bubbling mass. “I didn’t realize Charles required me to leave every time the Drifter docked with a station.”
A wry laugh filled the chamber as Lucille peered into the pot. With each bursting bubble, a foul stench wafted into the room. Lucile batted the odor away as she inched toward the exit. “It’s not that.”
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While this narrative touches on some narratives explored in the micro-fiction entries that I’ve published over on Kofi, those micro-tales aren’t for my patrons to enjoy and appreciate this installment of Ramas’ life. However, to sum up, after having his magical conversation with Emilie, Ramas returns to Nilus’ lab to discuss their options.
So, pull up a seat and get cozy as Ramas debates with his comrade about how to defy their common enemy.
After his conversation with Emilie, Ramas makes his way back to Nilus’ laboratory to discuss Emilie’s veiled threat…
As Ramas sauntered through the laboratory’s door, Nilus’ back straightened as he raised a solitary finger. “How was your conversation with Emilie?”
“Did my messenger tell you about the sending?”
As Nilus continued tinkering with his project, he shook his head. “A chat between two powerful individuals like you and Emilie is something that makes waves in the world.”
With a scoff, the wanderer removed his helm and tucked it under his arm as he strode across the cramped confines. When he reached an open seat, Ramas brushed the lingering dust from the chair’s cushion. Once the final speck fell to the ground, Ramas spun about, dropping into the seat’s stiff embrace. When Ramas’ chest stopped expanding, he placed his helmet on the floor. “Then that would mean any conversation between people with cursed sight can’t be private.”
“You’re not wrong,” Nilus said, as he snuffed the candle next to him. “However, unlike the banter between Emilie and yourself, I’m aware of the contents of our conversations.”
Ramas thumped his chair as his milky eyes narrowed. “Has she tried reaching out to you?”
“Not in some time,” Nilus said, steepling his fingers under his chin as his chair rose off the ground and rotated to face the wanderer. “Although I never shared the same connection that you have with her.”
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The confidence that infused Larry Bird’s playing career, is the same that flowed through Taitha from the instant she emerged from the depths of my mind in Siphoning the Stone. That seemingly arrogant demeanor is why I’m eager to continue to explore her life.
Come, sit down and allow me to give you a mini-escape and kindle your imagination.
“They didn’t appreciate your demeanor.”
Taitha lifted her drink and inhaled the final plume of steam. As a soft sigh flew through her lips, Taitha tipped the cup back, pouring a mouthful of the cooling liquid into her mouth. She swished the drink about, absorbing the intricate flavors. Taitha swallowed and laid the porcelain mug down. “Why should their ignorance matter to me?”
“Taitha, you promised not to insult any of the instructors.”
With a grin, Leodor’s sister shifted the cup’s handle toward her brother. “That was before I learned of their deficiencies.”
“That’s not the point,” Leodor said, squeezing his brow.
She tilted the cup down, peering into the liquid. “What was the problem?”
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I bounced between my master thief, Jessica Calhoun, and the crew of the Scythe for a few days, but I ultimately chose to explore Jessica’s history. Unfortunately, I didn’t have a clear idea of the crime to explore. As a result, I turned to Google and stumbled upon a collection of mystery writing prompts. While there were several mysteries to explore, the first one on the list called to me. After sleeping on the idea, Jessica’s story flooded into my mind.
Grab a chair and get comfortable as Jessica announces her moniker to her latest target.
When Leonard stops by his vault to add his most recent acquisition, he discovers a thief searching through his most prized possessions…
An elegantly dressed individual turned the door’s massive wheel. When it stopped moving freely, he propped the vault’s door open. Once the slab of steel stopped, he spun about, inclining his head. “Your vault is open and ready for your inspection, sir.”
The burly figure smiled as his chest swelled. “Thank you, Raphael.”
“You’re welcome, Mr. Evers.” The lean man grasped his hands behind his back as his gaze drifted from his employer towards the opening at the end of the corridor. “Would you like me to deposit that trinket?”
“No,” the heavyset fellow said as he pulled his manservant away from the partially opened door. He patted Raphael’s shoulder as the crisp air from the other side of the steel slab swirled past his face. “It’s been far too long since I’ve meandered through my prized possessions.”
“Very good, sir.” Tilting his head, Raphael strode through the hallway. “Enjoy exploring your collection of memories.”
Once the butler vanished, the man’s thick fingers wrapped around the vault’s handle. As the metal leached warmth from his hands, Mr. Evers’ lips curled, forming a smile that would have felt more natural adorning a predator stalking its prey.
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To continue reading head over to my Patreon page and become a patron, $2 a month will give you access to this and other flash fiction stories.
I hope that both fledgling skills will one day complement my writing. However, they need more development to achieve those goals. In the meantime, I will not stop churning out stories. And the first piece for February is a micro tale that continues Ramas Caldwell’s story from Sending Request. After the elapsed time, Ramas constructed a fresh fire and withdrew the leather tube his messenger delivered.
Come, sit down and allow me to give you a mini-escape and kindle your imagination.
Gripping the leather tube with both hands, Ramas wrenched it in two. As the inner grains of sand slid to the ground, he tossed the remnants into the smoldering blaze. “Let’s get this over with.”
“Now Ramas, that wasn’t very nice.”
The wanderer removed his helm, placing it beside the fire. He turned toward the swirling motes of smoke emerging from the flames as he licked his lips. “Emilie, you’re the one who called. What do you want?”
The smoky tendrils whipped about, coalescing into a lithe woman with hair cascading down her back. “For you to cease interfering with my plans.”
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Grab a comfy chair and follow Charles’ as he runs through the city, seeking a place for his ship to collect him.
With his score in hand, Charles can’t make his way to his ship, so he calls Lucile to enter the city to collect him…
“What did you say?”
Charles darted into an alleyway, crouching into a ball as he wheezed in a couple of shallow breaths. Once his breathing leveled out, he peered out of the alley’s mouth. “I need you to depart from the dock immediately.”
“How can we leave? You haven’t gotten back from your easy score.”
Charles’ lips twisted as he inched farther down the path between the towering buildings. “And you’ve identified the reason I am ordering you to exit our slip.”
“You’re asking us to abandon you?”
Charles’ knuckles popped as his fingers curled into fists. With a glance over his shoulder, the Drifter’s captain burst out of the opposite end of the alley and raced along the next street. “Lucille, I’m not proposing that you leave me.”
“Then please explain your intention.”
As Charles neared another alleyway, he slowed and peered past the building’s edge. After his gaze stopped bouncing about the vacant opening, he tapped the rough brick. “To fly through the city’s airspace and whisk me out of my current situation.”
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Thankfully, it didn’t take long before my churning neurons discovered the kernel of an interesting story. After applying a bit of metaphorical water and fertilizer, the brief tale took shape and unfolded upon the screen in my mind’s eye.
Come, sit down and allow me to give you a mini-escape and kindle your imagination.
“Max, what are you talking about?”
“I can’t be any clearer,” Maxwell said, pacing about the small bedroom. He lifted the lid from the miniature wooden box as a sigh rushed past his lips. “There’s nothing inside this container.”
“Are you certain you’ve examined the right one?”
Maxwell’s chest swelled as he pinched the bridge of his nose. “Sean, unless this tiny box contains a false bottom, you’re mistaken.”
“You are overlooking it.”
Maxwell pulled the phone from his ear and tapped his forehead with the device as his free fingernails dug into his palm and his chest deflated. “Where else could your precious box be? Because there isn’t another container anywhere in sight.”
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While I’m not dismissing my journey to draw my characters, I will continue to capture these highlights of nature’s glory. As always, if you want a better look, click a picture to head over to my DeviantArt gallery. Also check out my Etsy store, Natural Desygns, if you’d like to purchase some wall art.
If you have a tree nearby, look outside the nearest window. If you are fortunate, you’ll see a squirrel clambering up the trunk. However, if you are exceptionally lucky, you might glimpse a squirrel calmly sitting on one branch as it chews on a slice of leftover pizza.
Since most people won’t ever see that in real life, you can claim your own rendition of that moment to hang on your wall. The base image was originally claimed some time ago, but with some effort, a watercolor version has been created to bring a unique slice of nature to your home or office.
If you’re interested in adding this hungry squirrel upon your wall grab this print from my Etsy store.
On my last walk through Occoquan, I stopped beside a building that served as a backdrop for a handful of my wedding pictures. While I didn’t stop to dig into the structure’s history, the collection of irregular stones and mortar that comprise the build allowed my mind to image what this patch of earth looked like a couple hundred of years ago. Of course, the juxtaposition of the still standing building and the hunks of stone strewn upon the nearby swath of grass reminded me of a universal truth. Everything has a time and place.
With the watercolor rendition completed, I wanted to take it another step. As I stared at the completed digital canvas, something tickled at the back of my brain. With every passing second, the stark difference between nature’s advance and the deteriorating building consumed my attention. Instantly, the little extra filled my mind, and I created a series of erosions that gave the piece an extra sense of depth.
If you’re interested in adding this juxtaposition of a building to nature then grab the print from my Etsy store.
Sometimes when you search for beauty, it’s impossible to find. However, on special occasions, it appears right before your tired eyes. Every day when I walk out my backdoor, a singular towering tree from my neighbor’s yard captures my attention. Whenever I surveyed that patch of earth, I’m amazed at the disparity between it and its neighbors. It’s as if the tree’s trunk had stomped out the potential competition for the sun’s nourishing light.
Despite this sight being at hand every day, it wasn’t until I pulled my Nikon out of my closet that I actually paid attention to the view from my kitchen. The way the sunlight streamed through the bare branches, it screamed to be captured. So, after imprinting the image with my camera, I imported it into Photoshop and started working to transform the digital picture into a fantastic watercolor rendition. After completing the transformation of the image, I added a frame, giving the image a sense of depth.
If you’re seeking a slice of nature to grace a bare patch of your wall, consider grabbing this image from my Etsy store.
There are a handful of places nearby that have highlighted nature’s innate beauty. One of those places is the Historic District of Occoquan, Virginia. Despite the collection of atheistic buildings, there are many swathes of land that allow nature to shine. These range from its riverbanks to nature’s march against its structures. However, one of my favorite places to go is a bridge that crosses the river next to a small waterfall.
There is something special about water rushing over a cliff. The most iconic example is Niagara Falls, but you don’t need to make a special trip to experience the magic of falling water. As the crashing waves of water disperse over the rocks, it transforms into a memorizing flow of twisting whitewater. With each new stone in the stream’s path, the water twists upon itself, splitting into vast rivulets, enhancing the scene’s beauty.
If you’re looking to add this crashing water to your home, click here and it to your cart.
It’s amazing how much something can change when your focus shifts. The surprising thing is the fact that even a fractional difference can bring produce vast differences. Aside from bringing brilliance to diamonds, it can radically alter your perception of the world around you. One of my walks through the Occoquan, I stopped at one of my favorite places and turned my head. The simple shift in focus brought me face to face with something from my imagination, a handful of stones that a giant casually tossed before him.
Of course, I’m being hyperbolic, but sometimes you need to take a step back and allow your imagination to run wild. Hopefully, my watercolor rendition of these scattered stones will open the doors to your imagination. The next time you’re out on a walk, don’t forget to turn your head and study your surroundings from a different point of view.
If you like these fallen stones, click here and pick one up for your wall.
As I thumbed through my collection of photographs, I stumbled upon a handful of pictures that I took from my parent’s deck. When I stumbled upon this image of the solitary pair of trees sporting their still green leaves surrounded by their autumn sibling, the image gripped my attention. With each passing second, instead of sitting at my desk, I found myself hurtling through time and space to a quiet place in my past.
When current events shook me from my interlude, I loaded it up in Photoshop and started altering the image to bring out more of the piece’s beauty through the watercolor rendition. Hopefully, after a quick study, you’ll find a place of peace and tranquility through this slice of the past.
If you’d like to hang this on your wall and loose yourself in the simple beauty, click here and add one to you cart.
A little more than a week ago, I took my first trip to Neabsco Regional Park, and it was a remarkable trip. Despite going on a chilly winter day, I found many aspects of nature’s beauty to capture. With every picture that I took, my understanding of nature’s beauty deepened. By the end of my walk, I was convinced of the statement that there is beauty to be found in every season.
Once I stepped out of my car, I meandered to the trail and started exploring. There were multiple benches lined the path. At first I ignored them, but eventually I stopped and took in the entire picture. The planners positioned them in such a way that it appeared to be cloaked with bare trees, which was intensified once I converted the image to a watercolor.
If you’re looking to add this mix of nature and elbow grease to an unadorned patch of your home, click here and add this stretched canvas to your cart.
On my walk along Neabsco Regional Park’s boardwalk, I came upon a small bare tree. Despite not having any leaves, the way the branches spread out covering the surface of the water from my field of view reminded me of a bridge. Granted, it’s not one that I would trust to hold my weight, but the shape and branching of the crossing are pleasing to my eye, despite some parts ending mid-stream.
When I sat down to flesh out the story, a strange character emerged from the shadows. Unlike Solomon, this stocky figure was a nervous wreck and was trailing behind my hunter of the supernatural. As the figure tried to hide, Solomon’s actions reminded me of an episode of the Librarians where the titular characters end up in a video game. While I recommend that episode and the entire series, the concept of dragging someone through a dangerous situation filled the narrative with life.
Grab a chair and join me as we follow Solomon in his latest fight with the supernatural.
With the sun past the horizon, Solomon is dragging a portly man through a forest with monsters closing in on them…
As the tree’s shadows darkened the surrounding foliage, Solomon slipped his rifle under a branch. The hunter held his breath as he shoved the limb out of his line of sight. Once the dense patch of leaves shifted, air seeped through his lips as he removed his weapon and glanced down at the man standing calmly behind him. “There are times when ignorance truly is bliss.”
The portly figure behind the hunter reached out and tugged Solomon’s jacket. “What are you talking about?”
“Unfortunately, I’m all too aware of the creatures who are scouring the forest for you.”
“If what you’re telling me is true,” the man said, as a fingertip tucked under his collar. His head whipped about, tossing beads of sweat from his brow as he inched closer to the towering hunter. “Shouldn’t these things continue to ignore me?”
“Not when they’re here for you,” Solomon said, slinging his rifle over his shoulder as he crept toward a massive tree. He pressed his fingers against the rough bark while his chest swelled. When Solomon released the gathered breath, he inched around the enormous trunk. “However, if you’d like to learn about these things, I’d be happy to remedy your lack of knowledge.”
The stout figure’s eyes bulged as cracks rang out from under his feet despite following the hunter’s trail.
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To continue reading head over to my Patreon page and become a patron, $2 a month will give you access to this and other flash fiction stories.
Meanwhile, when I grabbed my Nikon D300 from my closet, I realized I would need some classes to get the most out of the camera I purchased over a decade ago. While these skills might seem to have nothing to do with writing, I’m hoping to weave them into my narratives, so stay tuned.
Despite losing time as I forced to fit these skills into the mix, I’m please to bring the first story of 2023 to my patrons. Shortly after pulling the results, I tapped Taitha for this Fantasy, since I was tinkering with a micro-tale for her earlier this month. While that narrative focused on her living arrangement, I wanted to highlight the fallout from her initial class. Find a comfy chair and get comfortable as Taitha seeks to educate her pupils.
Having agreed to join her brother’s Academy, Taitha finished her initial lecture and asks her students if they needed more clarification…
“With my lecture complete, are there any gaps that you need me to fill?”
A student in the rear of the small classroom raised his hand as he inched to the edge of his seat. “The headmaster informed us that you would provide a more nuanced insight into our spell craft.”
“I can,” Taitha said as she leaned against her desk, “provided you listen.”
With a sharp inhalation, the young man slid back in his chair. “Then you might consider going beyond the basics of the most rudimentary spells.”
With Taitha’s lips curling into a broad smile, she walked between the other students and kneeled beside the objecting pupil. She ran a finger along her mouth as she tilted her head. “Are you suggesting that everything I touched upon is nothing more than a remedial waste of your time?”
“It was,” the student said, thrusting his face into hers.
A faint bubble of laughter emerged from the teacher’s lips as her slender hand forced the student’s back against his chair.
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To continue reading head over to my Patreon page and become a patron, $2 a month will give you access to this and other flash fiction stories.
Come, sit down and allow me to give you a mini-escape and kindle your imagination.
“Are you ready?”
The man crouched down on the platform, tapping the metallic limbs of the harness, clutching his chest like the slender digits of a giant. With a nod, he took a sharp inhalation as words spurted through his lips. “I’m prepared. Send me after him.”
“Here you,” the technician said as his fingers danced about the console, “go.”
Instantly, the world surrounding the individual on the dais, streaked with thin lines of silvery light until it encompassed his entire field of view. When the office’s illumination gave way to the vivid glow, the ground beneath the man vanished, leaving him momentarily weightless. However, as the ethereal radiance dissolved, gravity’s steady pull yanked on him.
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For this narrative, I wanted to focus on Taitha’s relationship with her brother and his Academy. Come, sit down and allow me to give you a mini-escape and kindle your imagination.
As a lithe woman’s hand sliced through the air, a rippling silver seam burst into existence. With each passing second, the rift widened, revealing a raging mist with an image just out of focus. When she stepped toward the opening, the teased picture crystallized. As she drew her next breath, the woman walked through the ghostly rendition.
“Tiatha, aren’t the accommodations here acceptable?”
The gash sealed as Tiatha’s head whipped about, searching for the intruder. Once located, she rubbed her eyes and sighed. “Leodor, didn’t you promise that this home would be mine?”
“Yes.”
“By that logic,” Taitha said, slapping her palms together, “shouldn’t I possess a measure of privacy from the staff, even you?”
A full-throated chuckle filled the space as Leodor rose.
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Meanwhile, I’m pleased to present the first piece of micro-fiction in 2023. The first micro-tale is a Ghost Story, and when I turned to my staple of characters, I tapped Lucas and his collection of shades. However, I wanted him to depart from his normal banter, so I blended this brief narrative with the hints of a love story.
Come, sit down and allow me to give you a mini-escape and kindle your imagination.
“Why are you following that woman?”
With a soft sigh, Lucas brushed through the ghost swirling about his arm. When the shade receded into his portrait, Lucas stepped forward, plucking the fallen produce off the ground. Lucas reached out, tapping her shoulder as he flourished the ripe fruit. “I believe this fell from your basket.”
She glanced down at the proffered item as her tongue slid between her front teeth. “That’s not mine.”
“Are you sure, Elouise?”
She plucked the red fruit from his grasp and waved it between them as her lips curled into a playful grin. “Why do you insist on making choices for me?”
With a smile, Lucas eased it into the basket. While he gathered up Elouise’s hands, the obstinate shade’s head seeped out of Lucas’ tattoo and twisted about his anchor’s arm.
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Instantly, those images created a broad story in my mind that connected to a piece of micro-fiction I wrote for those who purchase me a coffee. Fortunately, you don’t have to read those two hundred and fifty words to appreciate this new story.
I hope you all have a wonderful New Year. And as you wait for the Earth to complete its revolution, sit down and curl up as I spin the latest yarn featuring Samuel and his dragon.
While Anna and Bruce search for a dragon sized meal, Samuel prepares his fishing rod to catch the meal for Anna…
Samuel rubbed his chin as he sauntered next to his dragon. “There should be plenty of plump fish swimming in that lake for me to repay my debt.”
Pearl nudged Samuel’s shoulder as her wings thrust out like a bird of prey preparing to launch into the sky.
“No, Pearl, you can relax while I collect our meal,” Samuel said through a soft chuckle as he turned toward his dragon and softly pressed his hand against her chest.
The dragon’s head twisted as she bumped Samuel’s stomach.
He ran his fingers down her snout and touched his forehead against hers. Instantly, she circled the patch of earth and curled upon herself. After the massive beast settled down, Samuel walked to her harness and pulled a rod from within the canvas sack. With a firm grasp on the fishing pole, he sauntered to the bank as he threaded it.
A series of tiny waves crested over Samuel’s boots as he flicked his wrist, throwing the baited hook towards the center of the lake. As the slack vanished, the slight weight clipped beside the hook hung over the rippling water. Samuel took a deep breath as the object crashed into the water. With a smile, he backed up toward Pearl, stopping when his heels bumped the dragon’s hide. With a sigh, he sat down next to Pearl and rested the pole on his lap. As the currents carried his line, Samuel tugged his hat down over his eyes and pushed into Pearl’s side.
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To continue reading head over to my Patreon page and become a patron, $2 a month will give you access to this and other flash fiction stories.
Despite an initial idea of the storyline, the tale came to life and took several shocking turns as I continued through the drafting process. Originally, the bee was going to be the child’s guide, but as the story flowed from my fingertips, the purpose behind that character changed.
So come and join me as we delve into the tale of a child who hopes for a better relationship with her mother.
Once upon a time a girl is playing in a fountain trying to encourage her mother to join her…
Once upon a time, as a thin sheet of water rushed toward the sky, a small child burst through it. While the young girl fell toward the shallow pool, the clear liquid flooded in behind her, restoring the shattered section of the fluid wall. When her wiggling toes collided with the calm surface, blobs of water were thrown from the pool’s confines. Instantly, the child’s head whipped about as the rushing water fell upon her head and shoulders. “Mom, did you see that?!”
“Yes, darling, you made an excellent splash,” a brunette woman said, pressing her phone against her chest as she waved at her child. When she pulled the phone back to her ear, she turned away. “Don’t forget that we’re going to have to leave shortly.”
The girl’s lips soured as she kicked the water, encasing her feet. A few moments later, she stalked toward the edge of the fountain with her scowl intensified. Once she stepped up to the fountain’s small wall, another ring of liquid erupted from the underwater spouts. While the ones beneath her feet tickled her soles, a pair of streams brushed against her arms. “I wish you would pay that kind of attention to me.”
“What’s wrong, little one?”
The young girl whirled about, searching for the source of the melodious voice. When the wall of water vanished, the child clambered out of the pool and nibbled the tips of her fingers. As her eyes darted about the clearing, she inched toward her mother. “Did you see anyone over here?”
As a buzz wrapped around the girl’s head, the stranger’s voice rang out. “Don’t leave. We can do so much for you.”
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To continue reading head over to my Patreon page and become a patron, $2 a month will give you access to this and other flash fiction stories.
That present was one of the White Elephant presents we exchanged at the end of the Christmas party. I used three dice for each of December’s stories. After rolling all nine dice, I selected three and used them for my drama. It took me a little while to weave an outstretched hand, a rook (to my eye), and a speech bubble, but they provided me an excellent starting point for the tale. With the building blocks ready to use, I turned to my collection of characters and instantly I knew this story was best suited for Marcus and Benjamin, though I would focus on the ghost portion of that duo..
So, sit down and get comfortable as you follow Benjamin on his journey to uncover the details of an upcoming crime.
Despite having found a lead on his murderer, Marcus asks Benjamin to enter an elaborate home to determine when a criminal will act…
“Head on in and find out when they’ll be making their move,” Benjamin said, placing his ethereal hand against the building’s stone surface. “How did Marcus talk me into this wasteful trip?”
With a deep breath, the shade shoved his face into the stones. When he pushed through the wall, his body burst into millions of green motes that floated along the empty hall. When they reached the far side of the corridor, they wriggled through the cracks in the mortar, emerging into a different hallway, with a handful of criminals sauntering through it.
As the pinpricks of illumination flowed from the stones, the group marched in silence. When they were halfway toward the next intersection, words drifted up to the coalescing dots of light. As Benjamin’s body reformed, his chest fell as he bumped against the interior wall. His fingertips slid into the stone surface as he inched closer to the criminals. “Marcus’ obsession with clearing his caseload is getting on my nerves, especially since we found that lead in my murder case when we rescued Mrs. Peirce.”
“Are you certain the cops lingering just outside the property do not have ears on us or this conversation?”
The man leading the group stopped and ran his hands through his hair as air rushed past his lips. After his chest swelled, he grasped his neck and clicked his tongue several times. “Yes, Gregory, I’m sure. While the police aren’t the most subtle when it comes to their presence, they don’t possess the probable cause required to get in here, let alone plant enough listening devices to eavesdrop on our conversations.”
“I have better things to do, and more important leads to investigate.” The shade shook his head as he pushed off the wall. When he reached the group’s leader, Benjamin leaned forward, sliding down the man’s face. With a sharp inhalation, the shade’s hands shot out, grasping the criminal’s ears. “Don’t waste my time and start spilling your guts on the details of your upcoming crime.”
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To continue reading head over to my Patreon page and become a patron, $2 a month will give you access to this and other flash fiction stories.
After finishing the initial outline, the remainder of the story quickly flowed through my fingertips. Unlike previous entries, Lucile does not appear in the tale. This time, I focused on an interaction between Charles and one of his newest crew members, Selina. While I’ve hinted that she’s more than she appears, I haven’t detailed her past. Though I’m sure that will be a wonderful tale to explore at some point down the road.
So, sit down and get comfortable as you follow Charles and Selina in their search for a simple flower.
As Charles and Selina explore the shops in a strange space station, will they ever find the elusive flower Selina needs…
“I’m sorry, Selina,” Charles said, stepping in front of the elderly woman. “Didn’t you mention something about how this flower’s prevalence in all the shops back at our station?”
“It is,” Selina said, walking around her captain, “though we should be able to find it here.”
Charles rubbed the corner of an eye as he rushed forward. Within moments, he caught up to the graying woman and spun her around. His calloused hands reached out, grasping her shoulders, and eased her closer. “It shouldn’t matter if a shop has the plant, you could wait until we return home to take care of this frivolous shopping?”
The elderly woman removed Charles’ hands from her body as she stepped toward him. With her lips twisting into a warm smile, she reached up and gently squeezed his shoulders. Her other hand whipped up and bounced about, pointing out the more unsavory individuals roaming the backwater station. “That question is like me asking if you would be content walking unarmed through strange corridors without the means to defend yourself from the looming hooligans.”
The young commander rubbed his face as he sucked his lower lip. When he pulled his hands away, he inched closer to the elderly woman. “While I appreciate your unique skills, not to mention the rare ingredients they require. There are some issues with that comparison.”
“Do tell.”
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To continue reading head over to my Patreon page and become a patron, $2 a month will give you access to this and other flash fiction stories.
This installment begins shortly after the Marcus stalks out of his precinct. Wen they arrive at the address, Benjamin pointed out previously, the detective waits in his car as he rereads the case file. Once he’s finished, he saunters to the front door and announces his arrival. So, sit down and get comfortable as you witness Marcus getting answers from the residents of the building that Benjamin pointed out.
After Marcus knocks on the front door, he finally relents and allows the ghost to search for probably cause…
“Don’t you have enough to break the door down?” Benjamin asked as he drifted through the building’s wall.
Brushing his nose, the detective kicked some of the scattered debris. “Unlike you, my ethereal friend, I’m unable to walk through a solid hunk of wood.” Marcus flicked the knob as he blew out a pent-up breath. “Especially since it’s locked.”
“You have a battering ram in your car, don’t you?”
“Without probable cause, I can’t use it.”
The ghost shoved his head through the wall. After a few tense seconds, he whirled about, grasping Marcus’ jacket. “Just grab it and burst inside.”
“Not unless there’s a reason.”
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To continue reading head over to my Patreon page and become a patron, $2 a month will give you access to this and other flash fiction stories.
When I started poking through the outlines for these tales, I instantly realized that both the Ghost Story and the Action/Adventure would best be suited to further the tale of Marcus and his dead partner, Benjamin. However, the first story that swirled in the back of my mind was anything other than an action story, so I shifted it to the Ghost Story slot. In this brief narrative, I’m focusing on the shade’s frustration at not knowing who murdered him.
So, sit down and get comfortable as you witness an argument between Marcus and his partner in his precinct.
As Marcus is working a file, he’s interrupted by his dead partner, seeking a reason his murder is still unsolved…
The detective propped his feet upon the corner of his desk, as he flipped through the pages in the thick file. Halfway through the folder, he laid the documents on his lap and rubbed his eyes as his head hung back. When his hands fell to his sides, Marcus’ unfocused gaze lingered on the puckered ceiling tile as his chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm. After several silent moments, his body flailed about in unison with his frosty breath rushing from his lungs. As one hand steadied the slipping file, the other grasped at his chest. And a groan escaped his lips when he saw the hazy shimmer of his verdant friend.
The ghost’s thumb slammed against the papers as his head turned about, with his eyes narrowing into pinpricks of brilliant green dots. “Marcus, why are you wasting time with some random missing person when you should be pursuing the individual who murdered me?”
Marcus’ hand clenched as his lips tightened, forming a scowl while his gaze swept about the precinct. He pulled his feet off his well-worn desk and slammed the file down. His fingers brushed through the ethereal face as he scooted forward, removing his dead partner from his body. “Haven’t I asked you not to bother me when the other detectives are about?”
“You’re never alone! And stop evading my question.”
“I’ve answered that multiple times before,” Marcus said, tapping the skewed files into place. “However, maybe you’ll listen to me this time. I can’t probe into your murder when there’s a laundry list of other unsolved and active cases that I have to complete or risk being demoted.”
“So,” Benjamin said as his soft outline flickered, “what’s taking you so long?”
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To continue reading head over to my Patreon page and become a patron, $2 a month will give you access to this and other flash fiction stories.
For some genres, I’ve been able to pluck stories from the depths of my mind without inspiration, but the same isn’t true for comedies. For this genre, I delved into the many prompts from NYC Midnight’s past micro-fiction competitions. After searching through the collection, I pulled one that centered on charging a phone. The instant the words tumbled into my mind, the skeleton of the story emerged from the depths of my mind. In the end, I dusted the edges off a little and refined the story here and there.
Come, sit down and allow me to give you a mini-escape and kindle your imagination.
“You’re doing it wrong.”
“Lucy, stop pestering me.”
She reached across the table, slid his tray aside, and gripped the man’s face, squeezing his cheeks. “Bert, if you were right, I wouldn’t have to bother you.”
Bert’s eyes slammed shut as he wrapped his fingers around her wrists. “Why do you feel the need to constantly correct me?”
“Because you’re always incorrect.”
He forced the woman’s hands down, pinning them to the table. As Bert’s irises smoldered, he reached for a fry and dragged it through the mound of ketchup. Bert brandished the laden slice of potato in time with his grinding teeth. “How can I be doing it wrong?”
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While I have hinted at Ramas’ abilities, I’ve kept the details close to my chest. Thankfully, the Micro Fiction writing format has allowed me to explore a sliver of a topic that I never planned on delving into. While I’m still not introducing Emilie, this story flexes some of her more interesting skills.
Come, sit down and allow me to give you a mini-escape and kindle your imagination.
“Hagar, what are you doing here? I didn’t call for you.”
The thin man inched closer, rubbing his neck. “Someone gave em a message for you.”
“I wasn’t expecting a response from anyone.” Ramas removed his helm as his neck craned towards his personal messenger. The stick clutched in his other hand vanished as he rose and grasped Hagar’s upper arm. “Who ordered you to deliver a missive to me?”
The messenger’s gaze fell as he squirmed against Ramas’ grasp. After the futile struggle, Hagar’s shoulders slumped. “I’m not sure how Emilie located me.”
Ramas’ breath rushed out as his grasp loosened. “It’s one of Emilie’s better skills. What’s her message?”
“She wants a meeting.”
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With every entry in Samuel’s life, I continue to learn more about his past. When Anna entered his stories, it was obvious from word one that they had an existing relationship. As the stories continued to churn from my fingertips, I was eager to explore that mysterious backstory. Thankfully, this month’s entry in his life allows me to explore a fun aspect of their past.
Come, sit down and allow me to give you a mini-escape and kindle your imagination.
Anna pulled on Bruce’s reins and pointed toward the horizon. “Do you see the tallest mountain in the distance?”
“Why?” Samuel asked as Pearl circled his hovering companion.
Half of Anna’s mouth curled into a smile. “Do you think you and Pearl could beat us to that peak?”
“Probably.”
“Really?” Anna wrapped the leather straps around her hands as her legs squeezed Bruce’s neck. “Care to make it interesting?”
As Pearl glided behind Bruce, Samuel licked his lips. “Our regular bet?”
“What else?”
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With that disclaimer out of the way, I want to touch on the first piece of micro-fiction for November. Normally, I strive to keep my Ko-fi and Patreon posts separate. However, Charles and Lucile have captured my imagination, so I’ve been bringing their stories to both groups, and I recently and officially introduced Selina to the world. Yet, I needed to detail their initial meeting,
Come, sit down and allow me to give you a mini-escape and kindle your imagination.
As a thinning child peered around a corridor, his stomach growled. Immediately, he whirled about, sliding down the wall one scant inch at a time.
“Who’s there?” A delicate voice called out. “Don’t make me find you, child.”
The urchin’s head fell to the inner bulkhead while his teeth ground.
“I hear every rumor about me that circulates the station. Believe me when I say you don’t want an introduction to the truth.”
The child’s shoulders slumped as he stepped into the small shop.
The graying woman lifted his chin with a dainty finger. “What’s your name?”
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From day one, I wanted these two to expand their crew, but I didn’t know how I would arrange it. That is until I watched them scramble to repair a malfunctioning engine while pirates were trying to relieve them of their cargo. So, sit down and get comfortable as you witness Charles and Lucille search for additional crew.
With the Drifter II’s engine repaired, Charles drags Lucille back to their old home to search for extra help…
Slender fingers slid through the lithe figure’s hair as her toes tapped against the floor. “Charles, please remind me what we’re doing here?”
Horse laughter crackled over the din as Charles tucked his tablet under an arm and his shoulders spread over the crate’s label. His chest swelled and deflated as he traced his chin. Several heartbeats later, his finger whipped about, drawing Lucille’s attention to every urchin scattered throughout the hold. “I thought we agreed to supplement our crew with folks who were desperate for a new life.”
Lucile’s fingertips drew faint white furrows down her face as her gaze studied the people lounging between the crates. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but didn’t we agree to search for potential crewmen that could contribute as soon as we hired them?”
“I remember no such stipulation.”
Lucille’s fingernails dug into her palms as she inched closer to her partner. “Are you seriously trying to alter the agreement?”
“Why should we exclude all these able-bodied individuals?” Warm laughter filled the space between them as Charles withdrew the pad and patted her head with it. “Don’t forget, you’re getting a collection of crash courses to patch all the holes in your education.”
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To continue reading head over to my Patreon page and become a patron, $2 a month will give you access to this and other flash fiction stories.
So despite the month slipping away from me, I slid behind my tablet and churned out a story featuring my supernatural hunter. After a bit of tinkering with the initial tale, I was happy with the latest installment for this traveling hunter of what goes bump in the night.
With part of his payment in hand, the hunter drags a survivor from a decaying building. Will they escape the monsters…
As the stoic hunter’s shotgun sliced through the dense air, he dragged a frail man through the tight corridors. When they neared an intersection, the hunter released the elderly man’s shirt and peered past the corner. With a grunt, the hunter reached back and clutched the feeble fellow’s clothing, dragging him into the open. “Do you know how we can escape this death trap?”
As a howl ripped through the corridor, the hunter pulled the man closer to him. When the echoes died off, the hairs lining the hunter’s neck bolted up like lightning lancing through the sky.
A curse tumbled past the hunter’s lips as he pushed his charge out of sight and spun about, his weapon tracing through the thick air. Seconds later, he racked the weapon’s pump and retrieved the solid metal slug. He glanced over his shoulder at the rambling fool as the slug bounced in his palm. After a moment’s consideration, he dropped the cartridge into the pouch attached to his belt and withdrew a golden shell with intricate silver filigree. The hunter swallowed a curse while his fingers shoved the specialty round into the gun as a second howl erupted from within the creaky home.
With the weapon ready to fire, he grabbed the man’s shirt and pulled him closer. “Which way is out?”
The frail man uselessly batted at the hunter’s vice like grip as he inched away from the cries. “Let go of me! I don’t want to die!”
“Old fool!” The hunter tugged his unwilling companion through the intersection by the scruff of his neck. “Whatever, you fools woke up, is tearing through this building, destroying everything in its path.”
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To continue reading head over to my Patreon page and become a patron, $2 a month will give you access to this and other flash fiction stories.
Upon reaching the last cargo hold, a mysterious set of fingers reaches into his pocket trying to collect his dwindling means of survival.
Come, sit down and allow me to give you a mini-escape and kindle your imagination.
Charles tugged the tattered edges of his jacket around his shoulders as he stepped into the station’s most remote cargo hold. Instantly, his eyes danced about the room while he drifted toward the nearest bulkhead. Before reaching the wall, his hand latched onto a slender wrist. “Who’s trying to steal from me?”
A timid and feminine voice tore through the din. “Let go of me!”
“Just because I am new to this area doesn’t mean I’m not aware of my surroundings.” While maintaining his grip on the potential thief, Charles turned around. He lifted the grungy fingers as his lips wrung together. “Explain why I found your hand trying to plunder my pocket?”
“I need food.” The young woman’s feet twisted as she yanked her tethered arm. Her eyes darkened as she inched away from her would-be target.
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The next highlight of Aiden’s journey comes during a stroll through the empty hallways of the Academy with Ramona.
Come, sit down and allow me to give you a mini-escape and kindle your imagination.
When Ramona’s slender fingers tightened around Aiden’s wrist, she tugged it, pulling him to a stop.
With a smile creeping across his face, he glanced down at her, tracing her cheek with his fingertips. “Is something wrong?”
She flicked a finger toward a window. “Who helped you to create that water tendril from the rain?”
“What makes you think I didn’t figure it out on my own?”
Ramona licked her lips as her eyes widened. “Did you create that spell?”
“Well,” Aiden said through a chuckle as his lips stretched towards his ears, “that depends on your perspective.”
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With raiders and pirates searching for them, Charles settled the Drifter II into an asteroid’s crevice and started repairing the engines…
As sparks burst from the engine’s innards, Lucille leaned over her friend’s shoulder. “Didn’t you mention something about how this deathtrap you purchased was simple to repair?”
Charles laid his tool down and rubbed his eyes. With a huff, he patted the metal shell as his gaze drifted toward his companion. “Weren’t you supposed to stay in the cockpit and keep an eye out for the band of raiders intent on disabling our ship, so they can board us and retrieve our cargo?”
“An alarm will blare when our competitors get within range.” Lucille’s arm stretched out as she turned and walked about the engine, tracing the warm metal with her fingertip. When she reached the far end, she stopped and folded her arms across her chest. “Though if we’re still trying to repair this broken motor, it won’t matter where I’m sitting.”
“If that’s the case,” Charles said, grabbing a different tool from the box at his feet, “did you come here to help fix the ship?”
“Of all the skills I’ve picked up in my life, knowledge of repairing machines isn’t among them.” Lucille rested against the engine and tapped her toes. “And since you know that, what do you expect me to accomplish?”
A bitter laugh rang as Charles leaned into the open access hatch. “You’re going to have to learn how to make simple repairs.”
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Despite the outcome of Departure, Mounting Woes picks up long after Charles’ father planned on returning to the station.
Come, sit down and allow me to give you a mini-escape and kindle your imagination.
“Kid, you told me you’d be here a few days,” the portly male said, rubbing his nails across his shirt. “That was a quarter cycle ago. Where are your parents?”
“Quincy, that couldn’t be any less relevant.” Charles’ lips contorted as his quaking fingers removed the credit chip from his pocket. “Since there’s enough here, why are you tossing me out?”
The stocky figure pushed Charles’ hand down as his head swayed. “You’re forgetting that when I process your payments, the system notifies me about the balance on that strip of plastic.”
“No, it doesn’t.”
The man rubbed his belly as he withdrew a small tablet and handed it over to Charles. “As you reread this section of the agreement, remember you willingly signed it. There’s a clause that grants me access to the chip’s balance whenever I process it.”
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With those new characters swimming through my gray matter, I pinned Charles down and cracked open that character’s history. After skimming the brief history, I sat down and cranked out a few tales detailing Charles’ early life orbiting that harsh planet. The first tale highlights the circumstances of his arrival. The other two tales I’m crafting will come later on in the month, so stay tuned.
Meanwhile, come sit down and allow me to give you a mini-escape and kindle your imagination.
“Why are you ditching me here?”
The grizzled man drew his hand across his mouth as his eyes flicked toward the airlock. With a sigh, he wrapped his fingers around his son’s neck, offering a halfhearted smile. “How’s that? I’ve provided enough funds for you to enjoy your brief stay.”
“You’ll need me for this run.”
With a tired laugh, the father’s grasp squeezed and patted the boy’s cheek. “Charles, are you serious?”
“I’ve heard all the exaggerations about your glory days.” He shrugged out of his dad’s grip as his trembling fist rose. “Competition and security are greater than ever. And let’s not forget about your vessel.”
“What’s wrong with the Drifter?”
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She decided to go to her father’s grave, to ask his advice…
Instantly, my mind connected that concept with Benjamin and Marcus. While Benjamin isn’t able to communicate with the rest of the world, he uses his living partner to answer the daughter’s question for advice.
When Marcus heads to the cemetery to visit his partner’s grave, Benjamin’s spirit forces him to comfort a grieving woman…
As the pulsing shade swirled over his partner’s head as he studied the only other figure in the graveyard. “Why are you visiting my grave?” The shade’s disembodied voice shattered the silence like a hammer striking glass as he circled Marcus’ head. “Why don’t we investigate the other mourner?”
Marcus placed his fingertips on the headstone as his head rose. “While I don’t understand what I did, to communicate with a ghost, we both know that I’m the only one you’ve found who, depending on your point of view, is either blessed or cursed with that rather unique skill set.”
“Despite the masterful summary, that little tirade doesn’t explain why my partner wastes precious time visiting a grave for someone he talks with daily.” The shade’s body whipped in the faint breeze as he leaned closer to the detective. “In fact, there’s often a great deal of annoyance to the frequency of our conversations.”
Marcus dragged his hands down his face as a grunt chased the budding silence into oblivion. “Despite carrying this heavy curse, the perceptions of the rest of the world remain unfazed.”
“Why would that matter?”
“It matters because the living are under the assumption that you’re enjoying your eternal rest six feet under this headstone.” Marcus peered up as his head hung down. He bounced his fist against the edge as his chest swelled. “Could you leave me alone while I complete this ritual?”
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With the prompt in hand, I sat down and wove together a comedy taking place in a coffee shop and featuring a bookmark. Instantly, my mind hopped to a scenario that makes me laugh. Hopefully, once you’re sitting in a comfy chair, you’ll have a good laugh as Felicia searches for her missing bookmark.
After misplacing her bookmark, Felicia searches the office and eventually ends up in a copy room with Winston and Harry…
A slender woman’s gaze swept across the small chamber as her head poked through the doorway. A pair of men flanked the lone copier as its chorus of whirling paper and grinding gears rang out. With a grin, she stepped inside as her knuckles rapped against the doorframe. “Have either of you seen my bookmark?”
The coworker closer to the woman ran a hand through his blond hair as his eyes shifted to the papers flowing from the machine.
Meanwhile, his companion spun about with clutched hands. His lips curled into a devilish grin as he ambled forward, keeping her from getting too close to his colleague and the active copier. “Felicia, why are you hunting for a bookmark?”
“Because it’s mine, Harry. And it has gone missing,” Felicia said, rolling onto her toes as she tried to peer past the other man. “What are you two doing in here?”
The blond fellow pivoted as he hunched over the photocopier and propped his chin on his palm. His clicking tongue added to the machine’s music while his lips stretched into a grin. “We’re doing our jobs. Maybe you should consider that rather than searching for a bookmark?”
With a forced chuckle, Harry inched closer to Felicia. “Winston’s right, but I think I have heard a rumor about your bookmark. Don’t you guard that like it’s made of solid gold or something?”
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With a little genre bending, the tale quickly flourished under my fingertips. While I didn’t detail how Charles and Lucille turned their find into the ship, I placed them on the planet below the space station they called home.
Grab a comfortable chair and hunker down as I weave the latest tapestry in their new lives.
After securing their spaceship, Charles drags Lucile to the planet below, to secure supplies from the natives…
Lucille’s gaze swept across the collection of natives that meandered about them. Her eyes locked onto the solitary figure, hunched over his knees. The motionless native held a trembling makeshift stone spear with whitening knuckles. She grabbed her companion’s jacket and pulled him closer. “Charles, are you certain this was a wise idea?”
With a broad smile, Charles raised a hand as his neck twisted toward his compatriot and covered his mouth with splayed fingers. “You can stop telling me you’re uncomfortable, Lucille. You’ve mentioned that more than once. However, I’ve dealt with these people on more than one occasion. I know what I have to say in order to ensure their cooperation rather than their wrath.”
“That’s not comforting.”
Charles’ grin widened as he eased her hands off his jacket. “We’re almost done. You just have to trust me a bit longer.”
As the natives surrounding them continued their cryptic discussions, she inched closer and tugged on her friend’s sleeve. “Just because this isn’t your first trip down here doesn’t mean you understand what you’re doing.”
Raising his fingers toward the chieftain, a series of strange syllables flowed through his lips as he turned and grasped Lucille’s shoulders. As the seconds ticked into an eternity, his fingertips dug into her muscles. With a deep breath, Charles drew her closer. “Lucille, if you’re this uneasy, why don’t you grab the smaller bundle and head back to the ship?”
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As the final edits came together, my mind instantly shifted to Charles and the desire to flesh out his backstory
Sit down and discover how Charles and Lucille deal with the aftermath of Bobby’s gruff behavior.
While Charles and Lucille scam people who walk through their corner of the station for years, they’re still searching for their break…
“The guy was a creep.”
A lithe frame scampered across the hold, snatching something off the deck. She pressed it to her stomach as she whirled about. Her long hair whipped about her shoulders and tumbled down her back like a waterfall. With a smirk, she sauntered to her companion. “Typically, the normal folks don’t push us around.”
“It happens.”
“True enough,” she said, stepping next to him. “Are you okay, Charles?”
With a broad grin, the young fellow snatched the prize clutched in her hands.
“Hey that’s mine.”
“Lucille, I thank you for recovering my loot.” Charles clicked his tongue as he waved the small strip of plastic over his head. “However, you were not the one he abused.”
“Because you won’t let me question anyone who stumbles through here,” Lucille said, poking her friend’s shoulder.
As Charles’s lips curled into a half-smile, he thumped Lucille’s nose with the hunk of plastic and leaned close to her. “I am always the bait, but we take turns with whatever loot the marks leave behind.”
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While these two tales are disconnected from my default storyline for science fiction, they probably won’t stay that way for long. I’m eager to explore these new characters and their journeys and their potential interaction with Daniel Shaw.
Sit down and get cozy while you follow Bobby’s walk through a space station’s corridor.
Despite insulting a self-proclaimed witch, Bobby ignores her ramblings and finishes his drink. Once he’s done, he leaves Matthew’s bar…
Slender fingers laid an empty glass onto the counter as he swiped a card across the terminal.
“Are you sure you don’t want another one, Mr. Jacobs?”
“Matthew, how many times have I asked you to call me Bobby?”
With a shrug, the stocky man plucked the empty cup off the pristine surface and placed it in the sink. “Entrenched habits are hard to break. Though I think you should consider apologizing to her.”
Jerking a thumb at the establishment’s entrance, Bobby leaned toward the proprietor as a chuckle filled the space between them. “Are you honestly listening to that crazy woman?”
The owner draped the damp cloth over his shoulder. “You’re not taking her seriously?”
With a grin, the slender man rose from his stool, shoving the card into his pocket. “Magic, curses, or hexes don’t exist.”
Matthew grabbed a glass from under the counter, filled it with an amber liquid, and extended it to Bobby. “I have a spare room so you wouldn’t have to leave.”
Bobby rapped his knuckles against the counter’s edge as his head shook back and forth. “Given the time,” Bobby said, lifting his hands up as he backed away. “A walk through the station’s corridors is exactly what I need to unwind.”
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With the stolen badge in hand, Jessica waltzed through the building’s security. However, she hadn’t established her fee with the job’s employer.
Sit down and get cozy, while Jessica uses the possession of Thomas’s badge to negotiate with the employer.
Having swiped the card from Thomas, Jessica is eager to prove to the job’s patron that he made a foolish error choosing the cheaper option…
As the heavy metallic elevator doors slid open, a slender woman glided into the hall. With a glance over her shoulder, Jessica drifted to the right wall and just before her arm brushed the surface, she reached out, letting her fingertips brush the smooth metal. A chill ran up her forearm as she sauntered toward the massive vault. With every step pulling her closer to her prize, the metallic face leached more warmth from her extremities.
When she reached the vault, she pulled her fingers off the wall and blew a thin breath of warm air across them. When the breeze vanished, a shudder ran up her arm while her lips curled into a devilish grin. She brushed her fingernails on her shirt as she stepped up to the vault’s reader. Jessica’s chest swelled as she removed the simple white card from her back pocket and pressed it against the gray plate. Instantly, a click rang out, shattering the corridor’s tranquility while the metallic slab swung into the hall, revealing the company’s treasures.
Tucking the strip of plastic into her pants, the thief stepped into the room while her gaze swept across the collection of goodies arrayed before her. Her grin intensified with every step through the glittering maze of prized possessions. Halfway down one corridor of pedestals, Jessica stopped in front of one as a whistle slipped through her lips.
The dangling lights illuminated the assortment of fist-sized gemstones while her fingers reflexively traced an edge of the stone’s container. Jessica pulled her hand away from the gems as she spun on her heels and continued her march through the myriad of treasures. “When not on the clock, this room would be fun to linger in.”
After half a dozen more twists and turns through the maze, Jessica’s smile intensified as she sauntered to the simple pedestal containing a white plastic case. With a broad grin, Jessica withdrew her phone and placed a call.
After a handful of rings, a silence wriggled out before a gruff voice silenced it. “Hello, Jessica.”
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Get your popcorn ready and curl up into your favorite seat as I weave the story for Michael and Alicia.
After an intense argument last night, Michael finds Alicia in front of an ice cream truck. Will he be able to win her back…
“I’ll have the lemon ice, please,” Alicia said, sliding her money across the ledge of the ice cream truck.
With a nod, the truck owner turned toward the massive chest and dug through its chilly contents.
While she watched the man search for her treat, a strange hand reached out and placed a dart on the counter. “Can we talk?”
Alicia’s lips tightened as she slammed her elbow into the newcomer’s stomach. “No, we have nothing further to discuss.”
As the chest’s heavy lid slammed shut, the owner swapped the lemon ice for her cash and rummaged through the lockbox, retrieving Alicia’s change. When he finished, he grabbed a wooden spoon from the nearby bin and handed both to the young woman. “Here you go, miss.” He flicked a finger toward the individual standing next to her. “Would you or your fellow like anything else?”
Alicia shook her head as she shoved the money into a pocket and freed the tiny utensil from its wrapping. While Alicia wedged the utensil’s edge into the smooth surface of her treat, her pupils crept toward the individual looming over her right shoulder as her fingers bunched the paper into a ball. “I’m good with the ice, but can you take care of this?”
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Sit down and get comfortable, as Benjamin waits for the city’s most notorious fixer to visit his favorite spot in the city.
With a sparking memory, Benjamin rushed to the edge of the city without his living partner, searching for the man who murdered him…
As the remnants of the sun’s last rays gave way to the soft glow from the lamps lining the street, the lingering ghost’s body swelled and contracted. When footsteps shattered the tranquility embracing the vacant patch of asphalt, the shade coalesced. Once his head reformed, Benjamin spun about and stopped when he located the owners of the footfalls.
While Benjamin’s ghostly lips curled, his drumming fingers rose to his predatory smile. “Finally, the man I was searching for graces me with his presence.”
The larger fellow wrapped an arm around his shifty companion, forcing him to quicken his pace. When the pair of criminals sauntered past Benjamin, the emerald shade glided through the air, following the men as they strode toward the tunnel. “It’s about time the goon revisits his favorite stomping ground. The moment he confesses to his crimes, I’ll find Marcus and flaunt his foolish choice.”
When the larger man reached the tunnel’s mouth, he pushed his companion inside as his gaze whipped around, scrutinizing the surroundings.
As the fledgling silence swelled, it struck the hanging shade as his ethereal body expanded to encompass the crooks. Benjamin’s focus latched onto the bigger figure as he slid between the pair. “Nobody else is here.” Benjamin’s hands clasped together and shook under his chin. “All I need is for you to talk about how you murdered me.”
“Harry,” the shorter criminal said as his shoulders inched toward his ears. “Why’d you drag me out here?”
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Despite all that, I’m eager to bring Jessica’s most recent job to my patrons. When I started sketching out this story, I realized I could not constrain the entire tale within a single installment. So, with my eye to the second half of the tale, I spun the initial portion.
Sit down and get cozy, while Jessica once again flexes her deft skills.
Annoyed that an young thief took a job that should have been given to her, Jessica searched him out to steal the core piece for the crime…
As the sun sank below the distant buildings, Jessica glided across the alley’s coarse asphalt. When she neared the hunched individual leaning against a corner, she slowed to a crawl, licking her lips. With each passing second, she drew closer to the stranger, lifting her arms as if to strike the man’s back. After a few heartbeats, Jessica’s mouth curled into a broad grin as she draped her forearms around the fellow’s shoulders and pulled him deeper into the engulfing shadows as she whispered into the lanky figure’s ear. “What are you doing here, Thomas?”
“Get off me!” With a grunt, the young man threw his elbow at Jessica’s stomach while ducking under her arms.
While melodic laughter washed over Thomas, Jessica’s body twisted as she flowed around Thomas’s strike. As the merriment rebounded off the confined brick walls, she stepped in front of him and pressed a finger against his nose. When the mirth faded, Jessica’s head swayed back and forth. “That wasn’t very nice of you, Thomas. Especially when you find out that I’m here to support you with your job.”
Thomas’s eyes widened as he knocked her fingers off him and inched closer to her. “What if I don’t want your help?”
“You’re so new to the craft,” Jessica said as she pressed her fingertips against her chest. “There’s so much you could learn if you accepted my offer.”
“Why are you here?”
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While the rest of the troop all went to Public Schools, that trip meant I got to play hooky from school, and my parents didn’t mind. Of course, in order to qualify for the trip, I needed to man the tree lot for a certain number of hours. And even though selling the trees was annoying, I was always willing to serve my time to snag myself a trip on the hills.
However, a sliver of my mind snatched that memory and twisted it into a situation where the leader of an expedition demanded that his people continue their march through the mountains. Unfortunately for him, his crew are unwilling to blindly follow his whims, despite the power he wields.
Come, sit down and allow me to give you a mini-escape and kindle your imagination.
One of the trailing members of the expedition leaned against the rough stone of the pass as a groan tore from his throat. “We’re tired”
“It’s irrelevant.”
“Not to us!”
With a scowl, the expedition’s leader paused and glanced over his shoulder. “Thankfully, we don’t have that much farther to go.” He slammed the butt of his staff against the rocky ground and a warm light washed over everyone. “Let’s finish crossing this treacherous path.”
“That’s a good reason to set up camp,” another voice said, “since the moon is incapable of lighting the way.”
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After so many years, the hand I was chasing has been lost in the churning sea of my memories. However, it was not the unreasonable bet that my opponent thought, considering I’d been catching those hands all night. Each time the dealer gave me the initial portion of the hand, by the end of the round I kept coming down with the best hand. So, I let the frustrated player’s accusation slide off my back. After all, he required a reasonable excuse for his defeat.
Fortunately, when I sat down to work on my Historical Fiction, this memory emerged. And since Samuel is a magical gunman, loosely adjacent to the law, I had to bring poker into one of his stories. As the idea blossomed into the eventual first draft, I wove a historical thread into the narrative. For those well versed in history, you should appreciate the manipulated truth to the inspiration of my budding narrative.
Come, sit down and allow me to give you a mini-escape and kindle your imagination.
As Samuel’s boots touched the ground, he patted Perl’s side. “Don’t fret, I won’t be long.”
With a muted growl, the dragon’s head curled over itself, and she nuzzled Samuel’s chest.
Samuel stroked his dragon’s scaley hide as he drew his pistol. “This criminal will not give me any trouble.”
After nudging Samuel toward the entrance, Pearl laid down.
As a soft chuckle rebounded off the beast’s scales, Samuel sauntered through the saloon’s doors. Instantly, his gaze swept across the chamber, stopping when he found his man playing cards with other scoundrels. While he glided through the empty tables, Samuel rested a finger on his lips.
The fellow sitting opposite of Samuel’s target cleared his throat. “Jessie, what do you have?”
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Despite being loosely based on events from my past, this brief story is completely fabricated. It was also a blast to watch as it unfolded within my mental landscape.
Come, sit down and allow me to give you a mini-escape and kindle your imagination.
As the bedroom door slammed shut, Robert bounded across the room, shoving something under his mattress. Once hidden, the boy whirled around and hopped onto his bed, plucking the book off the cozy blanket and propping it against his knees.
After a second of silence, the entrance burst open. “Where is it, Bobby?”
“It’s Rob, Emily.” Swinging his feet, the youngster grinned as his shoulders climbed. “And I don’t know what you’re talking about?”
The boy’s sister flew forward, slamming her palms on either side of Rob. “Bobby, where did you hide it?”
“What are you going on about?”
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Laughter bubbled out of Robert and his crew as the jolly mountain thumped the metallic mound with his palm. “Nothing on that list is large enough to require an inordinate number of boxes.”
As the mirth filled the air, a streak of white raced across the night’s sky. Daniel touched his ear while tapping the pile. “Let’s grab the goods and get them loaded into the ship.”
Instantly, the Scythe’s ramp hissed and cracked open, revealing a handful of Daniel’s crew. Once the slab passed the halfway point, Cecil, Harlan, and Franco sauntered down the lowering incline.
“Is there a reason you kept those strapping crewmen on your vessel while you waited for us to unload the cargo?”
The captain wrapped his arm around Robert’s shoulders, easing his head down. With a smirk, Daniel thumped his counterpart’s chest with the tablet. “It’s not that I don’t trust you, my friend.”
“That’s an incredibly insulting thing to say,” Robert said, stepping away from Daniel’s grasp.
“Robert, nothing we’re doing in this desolate patch of earth is what anyone would consider legal.” Daniel twisted his head and pointed at the containers. “Gents, get those crates stowed aboard the Scythe on the double.”
With a series of nods, the three members of Daniel’s crew gathered all but a single box.
As they marched toward the ship, Daniel turned back to Robert, tightening his grasp. “We could land on any world and have those pesky enforcement officers show up and arrest us for this exchange. It’s that simple reason that my pilot is ready to activate our craft and help keep me and mine out of the grasping fingers of the enforcers.”
Robert pushed Daniel off him and scrubbed at the stubble lining his chin, as Daniel’s trio disappeared into the Scythe. With a grunt, Robert pointed at the steam trickling from the rear of the vessel. “If the authorities were to break up this exchange, would you honestly abandon me?”
“If you plan your defeats, all your surprises will be victories,” Daniel said, tapping the holster strapped to his thigh. “It doesn’t matter if they are trivial or significant.”
CRACK!
Robert’s hand drifted under his coat as he whipped toward the unknown sound.
“Robert Duvaine,” a stranger said, leveling a gun at the massive captain. “You and your crew are to stand down for violating the commerce of controlled substances.”
“I can’t believe you’re throwing me to the wolves.”
Daniel shook his head as he slammed his palm into Robert’s back. While the larger man stumbled, Daniel whirled around, grabbing the last box and bolted toward his ship. After a few thundering heartbeats, the captain yanked the radio free, pulling it to his lips. “Lay down covering fire!”
“If we do that, the locals will reply in kind.”
A growl tore itself from Daniel’s throat as he glanced over his shoulder. “Laurie, the enforcers showed up attempting to terminate the exchange. Do you believe they’re planning on letting anyone escape this rock?”
“What happened?”
“The law is here to keep us from earning a living, Rachel.” Torrents of energy slammed into the ground, showering Daniel with debris. As the rubble tumbled off the captain, he swallowed a curse. “Come pick me up!”
The Scythe rose from the earth, throwing bolts of light into the fray, forcing the enforcers and Robert’s crew under cover.
“I know you are busy trying not to die, Daniel. But you’re going to have to explain why Robert is attempting to kill you.”
“Not now, Rachel,” Daniel said as more torrents of energy slammed into the ground at his feet.
As the ship neared, Daniel dove through the opening, landing on the floor.
“The captain’s joined us with the last of the goods.” Harlan smashed the button beside the hatch, sealing the cargo hold. Once the hissing stopped, Harlen walked over to his employer and pulled him off the ground. “Could you explain what happened out there?”
Daniel dropped the tablet onto the loose crate and shoved it across the deck with his foot. When it ceased moving, he cracked his neck. “Please tell me we weren’t the reason the authorities surprised us?”
“There’s no way they followed Laurie, boss.”
The captain banged his forehead with his palm and blew out a rough breath. “Robert needs to pay more attention to the wake of his ship.” He hustled to an intercom, activating the line. “Make sure we alternate our signature.”
“We’ve been doing that since you walked off the ship.”
With a nod, Daniel punched the hull. “We have plenty of time before the delivery is due, so ensure our journey is as circuitous as possible.”
“You mean like the trip you already planned?”
“I’ll accept your lip, Laurie, but only if you’re the one out here dodging explosions, debris, and lawmen. Is that a fair deal?”
“If I’m remembering the role you demanded of me, I am never supposed to leave this seat when my fancy flying is required to keep us alive or out of the clutches of any enforcer. However, if you insist, I’d be more than happy to swap places with you at the next available opportunity.”
Harlan chuckled, clapping Daniel’s back. “You know she’s not wrong, boss.”
“We’ll discuss this later.” Daniel’s fingers tightened into a fist as the fury behind his eyes threated to melt through the ship’s wall. “However, right now, I want you to execute the job description you so eloquently provided and keep the law from rounding us up.”
“One step ahead of you, boss.”
]]>Excuse me, I believe you have my stapler…
Two points if you can name that movie.
There are times when inspiration strikes out of nowhere. And this tale certainly falls into that category. As I spin a tale inspired from the source of that quote, come, sit down and allow me to give you a mini-escape and kindle your imagination.
The wiry woman’s head whipped over a shoulder as her fingers wrung together. “Darryl, are you sure this will work?”
The hefty man collected her hands, offering a lopsided grin. “Celest, we’ve done this before.”
“A few bucks here and there is one thing.” She bent over Darryl’s monitor, thumping its edge. “However, you’re talking about transferring a sizable chunk of the company’s funds to several offshore accounts.”
“Exactly,” Darryl said, standing up. “With all the previous transactions, dipping into the account and massaging the bits is easy. With my experience, I’m an expert.”
Celest moistened her lips as her furtive eyes whirled around the room. “With the amount you’re talking about, they won’t stop looking for the thief.”
Darryl’s finger twitched back and forth like a metronome.
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While Jarvis dabbed his forehead, the rough bark dug into the small of his back. After resting for a few precious moments, he shoved the damp cloth into his pocket as he hustled through his people and chased down their guide. When he reached the dwarf, Jarvis tugged the stout warrior’s shoulder. “Ferrek, how much further do we have to go?”
Hearty laughter exploded from the guide’s mouth as his head twisted. “We’re closer than the last time you asked. However, if you’re not as hearty as you claimed, we can take another break.”
“No,” Jarvis said between ragged gasps. He pressed his palm against his chest as his head whipped about, absorbing the monotonous flora. “I’ll be fine.”
“Provided you survive,” Ferrek said, clapping Jarvis’s side, “you should add exercise into your busy day.”
As Jarvis’s knees wobbled, he leaned against a nearby tree.
With raucous laughter, Ferrek spun around and continued marching through the forest.
As the dwarf wove through the trunks, Jarvis plucked his canteen from his belt and took several swigs. Once the water tumbled down his throat, he wiped his mouth and hustled after the guide. Upon cresting the hill, a stout hand slapped Jarvis’s stomach. “What was that for?”
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Fortunately, my private eye has an exceptional mind to leverage. I just needed an opportunity for him to flex his mental capability.
Sit down and get cozy, while we watch Kyle Rickman seek the answer for his latest case.
Walking through a store, Kyle examines the remaining goods. After getting confirmation as to their value, he interrogates the employee…
Sauntering along the counter, Kyle’s fingertips traced the panes of glass. When he reached the end of the row, he stopped and kneeled, letting his eyes linger on the contents. As his chest swelled, he flicked the clear walls. “Have these been replaced?”
“No,” the clerk behind the counter said as he wiped the pristine surfaces. “The thief didn’t linger. He came and took what he could before bolting.”
Kyle’s eyes popped up as he turned toward the other side of the counter. “Doesn’t that surprise you?”
While the clerk’s hand continued wiping the counter, his head swept back and forth.
Kyle’s gaze fell to the case as his finger bounced against its edge. “These pieces look real.”
“If you say so.”
With a grin, the detective placed his palms onto the glass and leaned over it. “If they are, they’re more valuable than what the thief swiped from your boss.”
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I have written a handful of stories for her, but I’ve never brought that family connection to life. So once I remembered this connection, I knew it would be the perfect story for my patrons.
Grab a chair and get comfortable as I guide you through Taitha’s reunion with her brother.
While resting amongst her friends’ forest, Leodor steps through an opening in the world to offer his sister an alternative to her exile…
As a woman’s chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm, a beam of light flared and drew to a point. When the lingering illumination vanished, a lithe figure sauntered to the slumbering form, taking a seat beside her. He reached out and repeatedly tapped the tip of her nose. “While the views are gorgeous, don’t you tire of this life, sister?”
An eyelid slid up as Taitha punched the figure’s shoulder. “Given my departure, there isn’t another place for me to go, Leodor.”
“You never were one to cooperate.” Warm laughter filled the space between them as he rubbed his forearm. “Our parents fought to hide you from the council.”
“How did you find me, Leodor?”
With a forced chuckle, Leodor jostled her arm. “What kind of question is that? You’re my sister.”
Rolling to her side, Taitha laid under the tree in silence with her finger tracing a design in the ground. When it stopped carving, her gaze drifted to her brother. “We can speak freely for a few minutes. Please explain how you could locate me. After all, you weren’t capable of slinging spells as a child.”
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With that memory firmly locked in place, I turned my attention to Aiden’s journey through the Academy and his struggle to get out from under Sebastian’s shadow.
Come, sit down and allow me to give you a mini-escape and kindle your imagination.
“Watch where you’re going.”
Aiden’s smile curdled as his fingertips brushed his shoulder. “I wasn’t the one ignoring the people surrounding me, Sebastien.”
The lean student came to a halt and turned around, cocking his head. After a few heartbeats, Sebastien’s mouth widened as he sauntered towards his classmate. With a lopsided grin, he adjusted Aiden’s collar and patted his cheek. “Considering your station, I’m surprised you decided to stand up for yourself.” Sebastien’s smile stretched as he leaned closer. “In case you forgot, I bested you easily in our recent duel.”
Aiden brushed Sebastien’s hands off him and stepped forward, forcing the taller student to retreat. “You shouldn’t hang on to that fluke.”
“Big words from a loser.”
As Aiden’s lips trembled, raindrops seeped through a small crack, running through a nearby window. With a beaming grin, Aiden drew his thumb across his nose.
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With a knock on the doorframe, Jarvis stalked into the makeshift laboratory. “Did you complete your study, Myriam?”
The scientist’s eyes darted to the pad beside her. As her breath rushed out, she clutched the tablet to her chest. “We’ve run the test multiple times.”
“What are the results?”
One of Myriam’s hands fell from the device. “Something has to be contaminating the samples we’ve taken from the field.”
“Please give me the tablet.” Jarvis stepped forward, reaching out with a weary hand. “I’ll examine what you’ve discovered for myself.”
The scientist’s eyes widened as she thrust the pad into Jarvis’s grasp. “Somehow, the assaulting horde is descended from the original expedition.”
Jarvis pressed the device into the table’s edge as he stifled a groan. “I was hoping Diana’s findings were flawed.”
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To continue reading the story, click here to head over to Wattpad.
After kicking the can for a couple of days, their tale popped into my mind. I instantly latched onto that budding concept and dropped the characters into the situation with my metaphorical popcorn bucket in hand. As I popped the kernels into my mouth, I watched this pair interact with each other as my smile tugged at my eyes. During the drafting process, I molded their conversation to highlight their individual skills, from Kyle’s mental acuity to Jessica’s penchant to plan out every aspect of her jobs.
So, sit back and get your own popcorn ready as I explore Jessica’s latest crime.
As the police investigate the theft of a museum’s gems, Jessica lingers with the other guests, searching for her chance to escape…
While Jessica’s dangling heel tapped her other leg, she glanced up at the individual towering over her. As the seconds drew out, her chest expanded while her arms snaked across her torso. “Do you think we’ll be allowed to leave soon?”
“Who knows?” The man ran a hand through his hair with a series of grunts. “It appears they’re insisting on talking to us individually.”
With a graceful nod, Jessica’s lips pressed together as she twisted her neck to study the pacing officers. After a couple of heartbeats, her fingers fell upon her golden necklace while her tongue slid along her teeth. “The police haven’t spoken with you yet, have they?”
“Have you seen any of them speak with me?”
With a wry chuckle, Jessica twirled the chain about her index finger. “I’m sorry, Luke. Having to wait on the whims of law enforcement is a burden on each of us.”
“We’re hoping one of you noticed something that will shed light on the robbery.”
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While I have plans to bring the intricacies of his abilities to my readers, for now, I’m content with teasing the depth of his fantastic abilities. This micro-tale introduces a random antagonist, and a new character, the tavern’s owner. While I don’t name him, I’m interested in exploring this new relationship.
Come, sit down and allow me to give you a mini-escape and kindle your imagination.
“We don’t want your kind here.”
Ramas’s hand lashed out, encircling a stranger’s wrist. With a grunt, he removed his helm and placed it beside his drink. While a growl emanated from Ramas’s lips, he turned around and stared at the interloper with his milky white eyes. “You made two mistakes.”
“Let go of me!”
Ramas twisted the stranger’s wrist, forcing him to his knees. “Your first mistake was thinking that because I’m cursed with powers means I’m something to be cast aside.” He licked his lips and grabbed his glass off the counter.
“Could you please not give the lad a harsh lesson?”
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Those simple exchanges brought me back further in my youth, to the days when I’d trade collectables with friends. It’s the same concept, and one I wanted to lean into with the latest micro-fiction centering on Samuel, my bounty hunter.
Come, sit down and allow me to give you a mini-escape and kindle your imagination.
Samuel’s fingers tightened around his LeMat’s grip as his chest swelled. “Why are you refusing to pay the full reward for my bounty?”
The stout and balding man peered at the lump behind Samuel. After a few tense moments, he shook his head. “Unlike common bounties, that fugitive’s papers clearly detail a time limit on his price.”
Samuel pulled a paper from his coat and unfolded it on the counter. Once opened, he dragged a finger across the text. “There’s not one mention of a date, nor is there a warning that a portion of the payment may be withheld if he’s not captured before such a fictitious timeframe.”
The other man plucked the document from Samuel’s grip and tossed it onto the floor.
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Keeping those facts in mind, I turned to my attention to Lucas and his menagerie of shades. Fortunately, I’ve already colored one of his ghosts to be the troublemaker.
Come, sit down and allow me to give you a mini-escape and kindle your imagination.
An ethereal shimmer wrapped around Lucas’s arm as a hoarse voice shattered the silence. “Why are we hiking through these mountains?”
“Ricky, Lucas has dragged us on trips for you,” Samantha said, as her rosy forehead bulged from Lucas’s skin. When her eyes emerged from the tattoo, her hand shot out, snatching the wriggling bluish figure. “Must you complain when Lucas assists anyone other than you?”
Haughty laughter flared as Ricky drifted out of her grasp and perched upon Lucas’s shoulder.
With a groan, Lucas grabbed Samantha’s wrist and pulled it away from the obnoxious shade. “Samantha, you’ve been here long enough to know Ricky is a cantankerous fellow who’s only happy when everyone’s miserable.”
She yanked her hand from Lucas’s grip and spun around.
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As the micro tale unfolded, my mind drifted to the first time this wonderful thief captured my imagination, Plunging Plunder. If you would like to read her first tale, click here and become a patron. When you’re finished, come back to witness her next trick.
Come, sit down and allow me to give you a mini-escape and kindle your imagination.
Jessica’s lips curled as she peered past the rough brick and watched Ruben escape the building. With swift legs, she closed the distance and entangled her arms around his. “Unless you want to attract undue attention, you shouldn’t react.”
Ruben’s lips drew to a harsh line as his muscles tightened. “Why are you here, Jess?”
“The name’s Jessica,” she said as she jabbed a fingernail into his stomach. A chuckle emerged from her throat as she winked at the lean figure. “You made a terrible choice to rob this building.”
“Don’t try muscling into my score.”
Jessica gestured about the street while her smirk intensified.
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While she never understood why nobody cursed my dad, he told me he never made his investigations personal. He never tried going beyond the investigation. Instead, he focused on discovering the truth. Ultimately, he treated these fallen agents with respect and, as a result, even though their lives were ruined and they hated everyone else, they had nothing bad to say about my dad.
Leveraging that story, I plucked my detective from Partners and separated him from his Benjamin to focus on a tale to honor my father’s memory, at least in a small way.
In the aftermath of a robbery, Marcus is pulled in to interrogate a material witness in an attempt to uncover the truth behind the heist…
So, pull up a chair and get comfortable while we watch Marcus search for the truth.
With a thick file tucked under his arm, Marcus opened the door. Instantly, his gaze locked onto the middle-aged man sulking behind the table. The detective slid into the open chair as he pulled the folder out, laid it between them, and lifted the cover. When it touched the metallic surface, Marcus’s index finger traversed the initial sheet and thumped the end of the line. Marcus sat up, crossing his legs, and folded his hands on his lap. “How are you doing, Mr. Wells?”
The sullen fellow slammed a fist on the table as he groaned. “Are you seriously asking that question, given the situation?”
Marcus nodded as he touched his lips with his index fingers. “I’m sorry that you’ve been inconvenienced, however, I have a few more details to go over.”
“You’re the fourth cop to march in here. What questions could you ask that haven’t already been raised?”
Marcus’s leg slid down as he hunched over the open folder. The rustling of the papers thundered in the tiny space as he rummaged through the file. After a few tense moments, Marcus’s irises inched up as he clicked his tongue. “Unfortunately, everyone sees the world differently. Sometimes what one person dismisses is crucial to somebody else. However, before we keep going, do you mind if I call you Jacob?”
The stocky individual rubbed his face as his chest swelled. “It’s my name.”
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Will I be the best that’s ever lived? No. Whenever I think about my place in the world, my mind drifts back to something my father said in my youth. “There will always be a faster gun.” In my youth, the concept that somebody would be better than me derailed my endeavors. However, now I’ve learned the real meaning behind the saying. Hone your skills and push yourself to improve, but accept that eventually, due to age or inferior skill, somebody will top you.
With that lesson coursing through my mind, I turned to Aiden’s dedication to improve his craft.
Come, sit down and allow me to give you a mini-escape and kindle your imagination.
As Aiden’s foot slid across the glistening, moss-covered stone, his arm flung forward, snatching a low-hanging branch. After recovering his balance, his gaze drifted to the sky while filling his lungs with the chilly air. Despite the raindrops washing his sweaty brow, Aiden spread his arms, his palms soaking in the dim starlight.
A few seconds later, his chest swelled and expanded while a vibrant blue glow clutched his body like an ethereal hand capturing a bug. After a few tense seconds, Aiden’s hands slammed together as he exhaled. Instantly, the gathered illumination exploded, forming a protective dome deflecting the rainy onslaught.
“Impressive.”
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With every word, I’ve watched Darren grow from a timid young boy to a master yet disgruntled spell slinger. Despite knowing that I wanted to explore his life, I wasn’t sure what kind of story I would tell. Since these installments of Darren are exclusive to my patrons, I needed to come up with a tale that wouldn’t force fans following his life on Wattpad to become patrons. So after a little thought, I decided to pit my mage against the Hunters, a group dedicated to finding wizards who refuse to join their brethren.
As Darren meandered through the city, he ducked into an alley to soothe his neck with a simple spell, sending out a flare to every hunter…
So, pull up a chair and get comfortable as Darren sooths his weary body.
Darren cracked his knuckles as pale blue illumination oozed from his palm. As his chest rose and fell, the soft light condensed into droplets and rolled down his fingers. When the beads neared his fingertips, Darren pressed them against his neck, and they seeped into his body. Instantly, the taut muscles running up Darren’s spine slackened.
After a handful of heartbeats, the last bluish drop vanished. Darren pulled his fists under his chin and threw his elbows behind him. As his back realigned, his chest deflated while a corner of his mouth stretched toward his eye.
“For someone who isn’t a member of the ruling elite,” a stranger said as he strode into the alley, clicking his tongue. “You shouldn’t flaunt your disregard for their decrees.”
As Darren whirled to face the stranger, his stance widened while a greenish hue wrapped about his fingers. With a quick glance over his shoulder, Darren inched away from the newcomer and slipped the verdant hand behind his back. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, sir.”
Groaning, the stranger gripped the bridge of his nose. “Not only did I witness your previous spell, but you are currently preparing another. Do you really want to go down this route?”
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When I settled into my chair to flesh out the story, my mind jumped to the epsiode of Leverage, where the crew talked about how they stole The Dagger of Aqu’abi. It was a fun episode where each member detailed how they pulled off the crime. With that story pumping through my memory, the initial draft tumbled through my fingers.
While I took some inspiration from Leverage, I also wanted to introduce a thief who she could constantly best.
Jessica claims a seat beside a boasting rival, and calmly details her recent score. Will Jessica’s recent pillage trump her rival’s…
So, pull up a chair and get comfortable as I guide you through Jessica’s latest endeavor.
“Can you believe how easy I swiped that moron’s gems?” While a smile stretched across the man’s face, the golden chain slid from his palm. “You’d think someone obsessed with security would be more observant of his jewels.”
As raucous laughter filled the bar, a door on the other side of the room swung open and Jessica emerged from the back offices with quivering lips. She tapped the swinging wooden slab as she marched over to the table, claiming a vacant seat as she flicked the pendant. “Harrison, that’s a pretty ruby. However, it isn’t a score you should brag about, especially in this establishment.”
Derisive laughter thundered through the chamber as Harrison twirled the chain about his fingers. “It’s better than anything you’ve ever pulled, Jess.”
“First, my name is Jessica,” the thief said through clenched teeth. “Second, equating your achievements to mine is akin to comparing a child to an artisan.” She pressed her fingertips around her heart as her eyes narrowed. “And as that skilled artist, I don’t appreciate your clumsy comparison.”
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As the radio crackled to life, Jarvis pulled it to his ear. “Fenton, talk to me.”
“This is the third thrust the horde’s prepared today. Where are their troops coming from?”
“Who knows?” With a grunt, Jarvis peered through a hatch. “Just remember your targets. We can’t afford to waste our energy targeting the same creatures.”
“We’ll eliminate the medium threats. However, we’d appreciate some help from those upgraded cannons.”
“Cecile should have more shortly.”
“Are you talking about a normal person’s definition or hers?”
Jarvis pulled a rag from his pocket and wiped his face. As he returned the damp cloth, he nudged the gunner wielding the altered prototype. “Hopefully, we’ll receive more soon.”
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To continue reading the story, click here to head over to Wattpad.
While I’m still working on honing my craft, hopefully, I’ve woven the desired tension into this micro tale.
Come, sit down and allow me to give you a mini-escape and kindle your imagination.
TICK.
“Beth,” Sarah said as her knuckles probed her temples. “Why did you purchase a ticking clock?”
TOCK.
Beth pivoted toward it as she tapped a fingertip against her lips. “Because that’s exactly what it is.”
TICK.
With a groan, Sarah’s forehead fell to the table. “Don’t you find the constant sound annoying?”
TOCK.
Bubbly laughter washed over Sarah as Beth turned back to her friend, crossing her legs. “From the moment I put it up, its persistent sounds altered into soothing white noise.”
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As I went through the drafting process, my mind flashed through memories, locking onto a faint memory from my college days. As I finished the story, my lips curled up as the broad strokes of my narrative mirrored this man’s story about his dog. Thankfully, I remember laughter complementing his story.
Come, sit down and allow me to give you a mini-escape and kindle your imagination.
Samantha’s fingertips whitened as the bridge of her nose reddened. “Are you sure you know what you’re doing, Max?”
As his fingers wrapped around a treat, Maxwell rested his chin on his knuckles and pointed at the puppy. “Training a dog is simple.”
“Are you kidding?” Samantha kneeled beside him, digging her fingernails into Maxwell’s thighs. “You’re dismissing the fact that people make an excellent living doing this.”
With a grin, Maxwell peeled her fingers off and turned to the pup, brandishing the treat. “Sit.”
Instantly, the pup’s butt dropped to the floor.
Maxwell lowered the bone, as he said, “Lay down.”
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Allow my imagination to tell the tale inspired by Blooming Heather by Jim Richardson, Nat Geo Image Collection.
A paw plummeted to the ground, crushing the discarded remnants of the surrounding trees. With a grumble, a furry beast emerged from the forest’s edge. As the animal strode from the protection of the forest, it halted when the crunching twigs and leaves gave way to an undulating sea of purple flowers.
While the statuesque creature stared at the field, the sun’s golden rays crested the distant mountains and raced toward the swaying plants, bathing them with their first meal of the day. With each passing moment, the din of the forest diminished. As the silence intensified, the bear rose to his hind legs while ripples washed over its body.
When the rippling ceased and the last of the dark fur receded, a stout man stepped closer to the flowers, running his hand through his thick hair. As the individual stood there, the chattering wind chipped away at the nascent stillness like a chisel striking a stone.
“Lander, why are you here?”
Without tearing his gaze from the undulating lavender carpet, Lander reached up and interlaced his fingers behind his head. “Neville, why are you bothering me?”
“You shouldn’t be here wasting your time.”
“Where should I be?”
“Preparing for the fight looming over us.”
The towering figure’s waist twisted as his lips pulled into a harsh line. “Is there a problem with me separating myself from the inevitable maelstrom to bathe in the sight of something beautiful?”
The newcomer rushed forward, grasping the bridge of his nose as he reached out and squeezed Lander with rough fingers. “Nobody thinks you have to abandon the things of beauty.”
“Then, before we rush into something terrible, stand here with me and appreciate life’s splendor.”
“While I agree,” Neville said as his hand swept across the violet field, “that this is a stunning view. You have responsibilities that require your personal attention.”
Sucking on his lip, Lander tapped Neville’s hand with a loose fist. “Amid barbarism brought about from warfare, we must strive to preserve our connections with the beautiful aspects of life, or risk losing everything we hold dear.”
“That doesn’t excuse you from stepping away from your duties.”
With a soft sigh, Lander glanced at the ground and kneeled. As his knee sunk into the earth, he traced the lavender petals of a flower. “I agree. Rebuffing another sect of shifters is important. However, it is just as critical that we keep ourselves grounded.”
“With the rising sun, Cedric’s tribe is about to strike.”
“Which is why I needed to retreat from those obligations for a few transitory moments to appreciate the joyful aspects of life.”
“Lander, typically, I’d agree with you.” Neville squeezed his friend’s shoulder and lifted him off the ground. “Unfortunately, these jaunts have been increasing in their frequency and duration.”
Lander’s eyes closed as his chest swelled.
“Once we’ve dealt with the other tribe, you’ll be able to retreat to your sanctuaries.”
“No,” Lander said as his head swung back and forth. With his brow sinking, Lander’s tongue ran along his teeth. “If we defeat our enemy today, we’ll embrace the momentary relief. However, another aggressor will step in to assume their place and again, I’ll be pulled away from embracing nature’s beauty.”
With a broad smile, Lander spun towards his friend and gripped his shoulders. As his grin widened, Lander patted Neville’s cheek. “It’s these jaunts that remind me of the importance of our struggles.”
“Then use this inspiration to create a plan to disrupt the impending assault from Cedric and his packs.”
Lander lifted his hand, blocking his view of the violet sea of flowers. Instantly, his skin rippled, and his fingers transformed into thick talons. His gaze lingered on the implements of destruction for several heartbeats as a silence wrapped itself around the two shifters. The thump of Lander’s knees slamming into the ground shattered the fledgling stillness. With a heavy sigh, Lander lifted his rippling paw and slammed it into the ground, pulverizing a patch of verdant grass.
With sorrowful eyes, Neville hooked his friend’s arm and hauled the shifter to his feet. “I understand your desire to bathe in beauty. Unfortunately, right now, there are duties that prevent you from indulging your desires.”
“Despite our long friendship,” Lander said, turning away from the field of flowers, “you’ve constantly missed the point of these trips.”
With a groan, Neville paused beside a leafless tree. “If I’m missing the reason, please explain it.”
Lander halted between two trees and raised his finger to a drooping branch. He traced the laden bough with his knuckles and twisted his head toward Neville. “If we don’t constantly remind ourselves about what we are fighting to protect, we risk turning into the monsters we’re defending against.”
“Do you really think we’ll end up like Cedric by ignoring the simple beauty the world can offer?”
“Cedric and his people weren’t always this belligerent.”
Neville’s knuckles dug into his temples as he rushed to Lander’s side. “Are you saying their entire tribe turned into monsters because they lost their ability to appreciate life’s splendor?”
Lander shook his head as he clasped his hands behind his back and resumed his march away from the undulating lavender carpet. “Their lack of attachment allowed the Hunters’ attention to warp them into unwitting accomplices.”
As Neville swallowed a lump, he slowly turned toward the violet sea. As the golden beams of light mixed with the rich purples, his knees trembled. His wobbly legs carried him closer to the forest’s edge as he rubbed his chin. “If we require an anchor to prevent our descent, then I’ll remember this glade of flowers.”
]]>My first foray into micro fiction was a ghost story, and as it tumbled through my mind, I created another character that I love exploring. Lucas and those like him can give souls an anchor to prevent their journey into the unknown. I’ve continued to explore his skills through my various stories. And each one has given me another insight into this dynamic. While it’s been a while since I’ve explored Lucas’s world, I’m eager to return to his special skills.
Come, sit down and allow me to give you a mini-escape and kindle your imagination.
Lucas tugged his jacket, covering the dark edges of a tattoo as he stepped into the hospital room.
A wispy shade poked out of Lucas’s abdomen, shoving a finger into his face. “Why are you attempting to add another ghost? She doesn’t appear to be interested in your offer.”
With a smile, Lucas swatted the ghost’s arm. “Because I haven’t extended it yet. Now go away and don’t disturb us, unless you’re invited.” Lucas ran his fingers down his chest as he sauntered toward the bed. “The same goes for everyone. Sandra and I will have a private conversation.”
A chorus of consent echoed as Lucas sat beside the patient.
Lucas reached out, jostling the worn woman. “Hello Sandra.”
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While I’ve once again dropped the living half of this partnership into life-threatening danger, that very threat provided me with the opportunity to uncover their relationship.
So, sit back in a comfortable chair and get ready for the latest installment between these Partners.
Confident in his skills, Marcus infiltrated the hideout of a local gang. Unfortunately, the criminals kept trapped him in a courtyard…
Marcus’s lips quivered as his eyes slammed closed, blotting out the bullet holes carved into the marble wall.
CRACK!
“You have two options, officer.” A thick-necked man brandished his pistol as his smile exposed his canines. “If you cooperate with me, your death will be quick. Otherwise, I’ll ensure it lingers.”
Shaking his head, the detective hunched his shoulders and pressed them into the granite slab while he sucked on his lips.
“Don’t move,” Benjamin said, pushing an ethereal hand into Marcus’s chest. The shade glared across the courtyard as his fingers caressed his chin. “I warned you about stumbling into this trap without help from the living.”
“That’s not what you said.” Marcus huffed as his gun’s barrel bounced off his thigh. “Unless my memory is failing, you told me something else, you pulsing green lightbulb.”
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For my final micro-tale for April, I wanted to return to Aiden’s story. During the last tale, Aiden summoned up the courage to ask his crush out on a date, despite their poor first evening together. Feel free to check out Tea Time before you delve into Aiden’s recent escapade.
Come, sit down and allow me to give you a mini-escape and kindle your imagination.
“How have your lessons with Arlen been going?”
Aiden shook his head as he spun Ramona around. “How’d you find out about those extra sessions?”
“Are these private lectures a secret?” Ramona dragged her thumb across her lips as she batted her eyes.
With a warm smile, Aiden reached out and stroked Ramona’s cheek. “Not really, I just wasn’t expecting the topic during our date?”
“So far, tonight’s been more pleasurable than your previous attempt.” With flushing cheeks, Ramona pressed her back against the door’s bar as she sucked her lips. “However, there’s still an opportunity for that to change.”
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With the genre firmly entrenched, my mind jumped towards sources of inspiration and the initial outline tumbled through my fingertips. As the storyline percolated in my imagination, I got a better look into the character of Marcus and Benjamin.
With the story finished, pull up a chair and follow this duo as they complete their investigation.
After Benjamin uncovered all the facts surrounding an abduction, Marcus rushes off to recover the victim from his imprisonment…
As the black barrel inched into the intersection, Marcus peered down the corridor on his right. With his chest swelling, the detective’s eyes flicked toward the pulsating emerald cloud trailing him. Marcus shook his head and rounded the corner while his gaze whipped about the hallway.
The green mist whirled, forming Benjamin’s body. “This trip does not seem like your best idea.”
“You helped me sift through all the evidence.” Marcus’s lips curled into a wry smile as he crept down the hall. “Then you slipped through the city, tying all the loose ends together, identifying those responsible for the abduction.”
“That doesn’t change my statement when you consider you’re alone in their stronghold.”
“Did we have another option?”
“Just because the choice was right does not mean it was wise.” The emerald ghost shoved his head through Marcus’s abdomen and reached up, tapping his partner’s shoulder. “Multiple statements can be true.”
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Which is why I leaned into that contradiction once I pulled the prompt for this micro tale. That said, the story would be rather dull if I focused the entire storyline on throwing a rock. As a result, I wove a repeated story through mine. From the get-go, my protagonist is forced to help his foolish friend.
Come, sit down and allow me to give you a mini-escape and kindle your imagination.
CRACK!
A thick-necked man’s head twisted over his shoulder as he pressed his friend to the ground. “Justin, why is someone chasing us with a gun?”
With a scoff, the lithe man rolled free of his friend’s grasp and popped to his knees as he peered past the boulder. “William, it’s a little offensive for you to assume I’m responsible for this aggression.”
William entwined his thick fingers with Justin’s jacket and dragged him to the earth.
CRACK!
William’s grip tightened as he slammed his friend against the massive stone. “Given your colorful history with strangers, this isn’t a wild assumption.”
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Armed with my fledgling plotline, I dove into the first narrative for April, a follow-up to Partners. Thankfully, it didn’t take much for me to coax this installment from the depths of my mind. As this journey came across the finish line, I leaned into my chair as my lips curled into a broad smile. It’s going to be amazing to watch this story play out with every installment.
Grab a seat and get comfortable as Benjamin helps his partner.
Intent on honoring his agreement with Marcus, Benjamin drags his partner to a building so he can help whittle down Marcus’s caseload…
Swirling over his partner’s head, Benjamin shoved his hand through Marcus’s face. “Wait here.”
The detective gripped his fedora as he tapped the brick wall with his fist. He glanced over his shoulder and studied the people in the distance as his grinding jaw filled the alleyway.
Haughty laughter bounced off the walls, silencing the harsh sound as Benjamin’s limbs slid into the building. “You should be careful about grinding your teeth.”
Marcus stepped forward, whipping his fedora through his ethereal partner. “Why’d you drag me here?”
“I’m taking care of the first of many cases for you, per our arrangement.” Benjamin’s head drifted into the wall as his fingers touched his brow in salute. “There’s a coffee shop around the corner. You should grab a drink and savor it while you wait.”
Once inside, Benjamin’s body pulsed with emerald light as he glided through an empty hallway. When he reached the first door, it swung open, and a stout man walked through the opening. Benjamin grinned as he drifted up, preventing his body from touching the goon. As the stranger sauntered down the hall, the shade shoved his head through the ceiling, spinning towards a pair of bickering voices.
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While I’m not the most skilled comedic writer around, this format allows me to flex these underdeveloped muscles. My hope is that with enough of these micro tales, I’ll be able to remedy the deficiency I currently have when I create my comedies.
Come, sit down and allow me to give you a mini-escape and kindle your imagination.
Plump fingers dug into Alice’s wrist as a gruff voice washed over her. “What do you think you’re doing?”
“You are hurting me.” She sucked her lips as she pressed a phone against the man’s ribs. “Please let go.”
With a grin, his grasp loosened as he crossed his legs and drummed the back of the charging phone.
Alice pulled her hand free and tucked the telephone under her arm. As her chest swelled, she massaged her forearm. “You didn’t have to bruise me.”
“Why were you trying to steal my phone?”
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Unfortunately, I’m not quite ready to detail that original storyline, but I couldn’t let these abilities sit in my mind unused. So when it came time to write a Fantasy with only two hundred and fifty words, I dove into a different time period and another patch of earth for this collection of micro-tales. For those who missed Ramas’s initial tale, click here to read Warning. Or click on that tale’s cover to follow his journey.
Despite having another character in mind when I roughed out these powers, Ramas and his adventures have allowed me to explore and cement these mystical powers in chunks of two hundred and fifty words.
Come, sit down and allow me to give you a mini-escape and kindle your imagination.
The wind tore at the towering stranger’s cloak.
Ramas’s grinding teeth shattered the tense silence as his arms stretched towards opposite horizons. “Gerald, turn around and leave.”
As the black fabric danced, Gerald’s hand rocketed toward the clouds. Instantly, a tremor raced under Ramas’s feet as Gerald widened his stance. “Emilie chose me to handle this troublesome village because of our history.”
“Go away!” Ramas said as his staff whirled through the air, with the pulsing emerald light searing the sky.
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Armed with the bare bones for my thriller, my mind fluttered to a common storyline that I’ve seen featured in many shows. Unfortunately, I’m only able to pull two of them to mind. The first was an episode of Father Brown and the other comes from Get Smart. While the former is a mystery and the other is a comedy, both featured an episode where the main character was hunted for sport. In both instances, the villain grew tired of hunting the apex predators of the animal kingdom and turned to stalk people. With these storylines blazing through my mind, I began crafting my take for this type of hunt.
So find a comfortable spot and join me as we follow Justin’s flight.
Justin is invited to join an affluent gentleman for a trip down a canal. Shortly after the departure, Justin leans the trip’s actual cost…
With a heavy sigh, Justin leaned against the bulkhead and slid down the cold metal as water crested over the railing, splashing against his face. He wiped the droplets from his brow as his gaze whipped about the ferry’s deck. After a handful of heartbeats, Justin’s head fell as his breathing slowed and a few beads of sweat rolled down his cheek. The drops collided, becoming one, which plummeted from his chin and crashed upon the smooth steel beneath him.
CRACK!
Justin’s fingers flew to his ear as he lunged forward, tucking into a roll. Instantly, Justin was on his feet, his head whipping about the ferry. When his back touched the bulkhead, he pulled his hand from his face and dashed along the railing and stepped through the first open door.
With a glance over his shoulder, Justin ran through the doorway, plunging into the mass of vehicles, and began weaving through the massive collection. Only the sounds of Justin’s frantic footfalls filled the floating parking lot. As the fleeing man’s fingers touched the bed of a pickup truck, his knees buckled as maniacal laughter destroyed the momentary tranquility.
When the twisted mirth vanished, a gravelly voice shattered the fledgling stillness. “Thank you for providing such a tantalizing challenge.” The hunter lifted his rifle and walked down the line of cars. Upon reaching the last car, his smile intensified. “While most of my guests keep me occupied, few are able to provide me with this much entertainment.”
“I’m happy you’re enjoying my suffering, Francis.”
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There are days when I make decisions that allow my creative pursuits to flourish. However, there are others when I pull myself away from the current distraction and realize it’s well past midnight. Every time that happens, I wish life was like a movie, so I could rewind the clock and alter the choices that I made. Unfortunately, that wish is useless. Thankfully, one of the defining aspects of life is we can learn from our mistakes and make better choices.
So when it came time to revisit Aiden’s adventures in the Academy, I leaned into those desires to craft another story between Aiden and Ramona.
Come, sit down and allow me to give you a mini-escape and kindle your imagination.
“Can I ask you a question?”
As droplets fell from the infuser, Ramona gestured at the open seat. “Unfortunately, Aiden, there’s not enough tea to share, but please join me.”
“That’s okay,” Aiden said, sitting down. “I’m not all that thirsty.”
With a warm smile, Ramona laid the small mesh sphere onto the plate as she lifted the metal carafe. “Well, what can I do for you?”
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While the location for this narrative is an amphitheater, it also needed to highlight a painkiller. As the concept percolated in my mind, I wanted to keep this tale focused on the interactions rather than the technology of the world. While I let my mind rest, the episode of Futurama where Fry is pulled into an alley to purchase a set of lungs popped into my mind. With that scene in mind, the storyline crystalized in my mind and the initial draft flew through my fingers, giving me a wonderful starting point for the following drafts.
So, grab a chair and get cozy while Isabella tries to attend an event.
Excited by the upcoming show, Isabella arrives at the amphitheater, but before she can enter, a peddler sidetracks her with his trinkets…
When the illumination vanished, Isabella stepped off the small dais as her hands flew to her chest and her eyes widened. With her breathing quickening, she dashed toward the amphitheater in step with the flowing crowd. As Isabella walked through the opening, a hand grabbed her elbow and pulled her back through the throng.
As the mysterious stranger hauled Isabella down an alleyway, she swiped at the firm grasp, stealing her away from the initial notes caressing her ears. “Let go of me!”
“Our business will be completed soon enough,” a gruff voice said as the towering individual guided her through side streets. After a few frantic moments, the pair stepped into a small courtyard littered with a collection of tables. When they reached the last in the line, the thin man released her and strode behind his table, waving his hands over the assortment of baubles littering the slab of wood as his head dipped slightly. “Do any of my trinkets capture your interest?”
Isabella’s eyes flicked over her shoulder while her arms wrapped around her chest. As a shiver ran down her spine, Isabella stepped away from the peddler. “I didn’t make the trip to Aurora to peruse some stranger’s goods.”
“No matter how hard you search, you won’t find a better collection anywhere on Aurora.”
“I’m not interested,” Isabella said, inching towards the exit, thrusting a thumb over her shoulder as she removed a slender rod from her pocket. “I am going to leave. You can stop trying to peddle your trinkets. If you try grabbing me again, you will regret it.”
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‘He opened the door to find her standing there, crying.’
While the first line prompts are wonderful starting points, they’re not entirely conducive to these micro-tales. While I continue to return to the well, I end up adapting the spirit of the words to the central storyline. OF course, I needed to figure out how I would blend that guide with a narrative. Thankfully, my mind connected a few unpleasant memories and the beginnings of a story crystalized in my mind. Thankfully, the first few decades of my life were mostly pleasant, however, life sought to make up for those good times with more recent events.
With each pass through this narrative, I leveraged those painful memories and leaned into them as I crafted this brief romance.
Come, sit down and allow me to give you a mini-escape and kindle your imagination.
Luke shouldered the door open, and sobs bombarded him. The bouquet, clutched in his grasped, tumbled to the foyer as he rushed up the stairs. When he reached the second floor, the tumbling flowers struck the ground. Instantly, he raced through the hall toward the sobbing.
As the tears softened, Luke’s fingertips halted and hovered over the knob. A feminine voice cut through the walls as the cries stopped. “Why?”
With trembling legs, Luke traced the metal doorknob. As each sob rang out, the sorrowful melody emanating intensified, wrapping itself around Luke’s heart. While the sobs continued to flow, Luke’s eyelids slammed shut as his chest expanded. When he opened the door, a tear tumbled down his cheek.
Once he could see inside, he found a woman lying on the floor, lifting her head.
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While my typical formula my ghost stories find the ethereal character has limited to no contact with the world of the living, that was the first thing to change. My new ghost is a former ghost that can interact with his former partner.
So, grab a chair and get cozy while you follow Marcus’s attempt to interact with his partner.
Unable to interact with anyone other than his former partner, Benjamin continues to follow Marcus as he seeks to discover the truth…
“Marcus, why won’t you help me figure out who killed me?!”
As the slender man’s coat flickered in the wind, his fingers wrapped around the brim of his hat. With his chest heaving, he pulled it down, stifling a growl. Glancing over his shoulder, Marcus scowled as the crowd parted and flowed past him. When a gap in the procession came, Marcus glided through the throng and ducked into the first alley. Marcus tipped the hat up and glowered at the hovering green ghost. “Why are you bothering me?”
“Haven’t I answered that multiple times?” The shade asked as it whirled over Marcus’s head and pulsed with a brilliant emerald glow.
“Scratch that.” The detective released his grasp as his hands whipped through the specter. “The better question is, how are you bugging me?! You’re dead!”
The pulsing, verdant light fluttered in the breeze like a flag as Marcus drummed his fingers against the rough brick. “Marcus, can’t you accept that I’m able to interact with you?”
“Ghosts don’t exist, Benjamin!”
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“Who would have poisoned the old man’s dog?”
With that simple line, Solomon’s latest adventure played out in my mind. When the story finished, I sat behind my computer and my fingers flew across the keys, capturing the initial draft. Sometimes these drafts drastically change by the time I’m finished writing the tale. Fortunately, this brief manuscript survived the editing process, more or less intact.
While the line I pulled doesn’t appear in this tale, its sentiment runs throughout the two hundred and fifty words of Solomon’s latest Hunt.
Come, sit down and allow me to give you a mini-escape and kindle your imagination.
BANG!
As the door rebounded off the wall, Solomon stormed into the home with his gaze cataloging everything. His weapon quivered as he inched toward the lump in the foyer. When he reached it, his fingers traced sticky and coarse fur. Instantly, his lips curled into a snarl as he whirled around. “What kind of monster kills a dog?!”
Uugh… Aaah…
“Who’s there!” As Solomon’s cry echoed off the walls, he crept across the chamber, cocking the shotgun. “Why’d you kill the pooch?”
Aahhh…
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While I don’t remember every detail of that version, the fuzzy memories soothed my ever-moving mind. After an initial internal struggle, I pulled the trigger and purchased a digital copy of Animal Crossing: New Horizons. The moment the game finished installing on my Switch, I dove in game. Once past the initial screens, I scampered about the accessible portion of the island, my lips curled into a beaming smile.
After losing myself in the game, I’ve already churned through the core storyline, getting K.K. Slider to come to the isle and perform. Of course, once the credits roll, the open-ended gameplay will allow me to continue exploring the game for the foreseeable future. The part I’m most excited about is the Island Designer app, so I’ll be able to fully customize my digital frontier. Ultimately, it’s this flexibility that is this series greatest pull.
If you have a Switch and don’t already own this game, you should buy it and delve into this ever-growing world. Once you’re familiar with the game, consider exploring the expansive ecosystem with Dodo Airlines and Dodo Codes.
Happy Gaming!
Hunker down in your chair and enjoy the artwork below. As always, if you want a better look, click a picture to head over to my DeviantArt gallery and consider buying a print.
]]>As the memories flood through my mind, I’m a little kid with my mother hovering over me, offering me her protection. So, when I pulled the action for this micro-tale, “Baking a Pie”, my mind instantly connected the pot pies of my youth with the protection offered by my mother. It also slid perfectly into Ramas’s world and allows me to explore his life.
Come, sit down and allow me to give you a mini-escape and kindle your imagination.
Ramas wrapped his hand around the swirling motes of illumination. With a deep breath, he twisted the doorknob and shoved the door. When it struck the inside wall, Ramas stepped inside and cracked his neck. As the sea of tiny sparks danced about the blackness, Ramas’s lips twisted into a grin. “Am I disturbing you?”
The lithe woman glided across the vacant chamber, embracing Ramas. “You are.” She stepped back, tracing his arms with her fingertips. “However, that’s never bothered me.”
“Annabelle, where’s Silas?”
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And to quote the villager from the witch trial during Monty Python and the Holy Grail…
‘I got better.’
While I eventually made a full recovery for a handful of days, the syndrome forced to sit and stare at the bare hospital walls. Fortunately, even when I’m stuck doing nothing, my mind can churn away, creating a story out of nothing. As I worked through those countless and unforgotten scenarios, the fear of the unknown lessened. It also helped that family made the trip from home. Toward the end of my stay, the knowledge that I’d beaten back the sickness combined with the familiar soothed my soul.
With my mental fingers gripping those memories, I sat down and kept them in mind as I crafted the latest installment of Samuel’s journey.
Come, sit down and allow me to give you a mini-escape and kindle your imagination.
“How are you doing today?” Anna asked, pushing the door open with her shoulders. She lifted the tray over her head as she moistened her lips. “Hopefully, you’re ready for your last meal.”
Samuel shoved the brush through the top hole of the LeMat’s cylinder. As his chest expanded, Samuel’s gaze shifted to an empty tube as he clicked his tongue. “After his tireless efforts, the doctor told me I wasn’t in danger of dying. So why are you bringing me a final serving of stew?”
“No need to be snippy.” Anna laid the tray across Samuel’s lap and plucked the part from his grasp. “He’s eager to reclaim his cot for people who are perishing.”
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So, grab a seat and your popcorn as you follow the aftermath of Samuel’s last search.
Fresh off their forced relocation, Harry receives a missive from the administrators that sends him into a depression…
Harry pulled the crumpled letter from a pocket as he leaned against the grimy wall. After scanning the initial paragraph, his back slid down the brick wall as his fingers trembled around the paper. When his thighs came parallel with the sidewalk, his legs collapsed, dropping him to the ground. The faint breeze whipped across his face, tugging at the document, but his vice like grasp kept it from flying down the street. As a heavy sigh rushed from his lips, his head fell, striking the dingy building.
After several minutes ticked away, a hand plucked the letter from Harry’s quivering fingers. “I know you told me you got bad news, but what’s in this thing that has you on your butt?”
“You wouldn’t understand,” Harry said, pulling the note out of his friend’s grasp. He crumpled the paper and shoved it into his jacket. “Matthew, why are you here?”
The man shook his head and sat down beside his friend. As the silence stretched out, Matthew sighed and prodded Harry’s stomach. “Why are you wondering the streets alone, instead of spending time with your family?”
Harry’s chest fell as he bounced his skull off the building. “Did Alicia send you to find me?”
“Did you honestly forget about our plans?”
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“You want me to do what?”
“Contrary to your outrage, my request was extremely straightforward.” Randall sauntered over to the desk and his finger traced one of the metallic chains. With a grin, he plucked it off the table and laid it against his palm. As Randall’s head cocked, he tapped the woven metal with a fingertip. “You’ve told me about Lia. Why couldn’t you ask her to join us?”
“I’m in the middle of a project,” Darren said, stirring the contents of his cauldron. “I don’t have time to deal with your frivolous endeavors.”
“I appreciate your desire to further the understanding of your gifts.” A sigh rushed past Randall’s lips as he tossed the interwoven silver links onto the desktop. While the gentle thuds bounced against the walls, he dragged the second chair over to Darren’s desk and plopped into it. “However, nobody, not even you, can maintain this breakneck pace forever.”
“This is important.”
Randall flicked the cauldron’s edge as his gaze swept from side to side. “And whatever you’re working on, I’m certain you could take a break for a couple of hours, potentially a full day, to enjoy excellent food and exceptional friendship.”
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To continue reading the story, click here to head over to Wattpad.
However, the crux of the Academy is preparing their students for the life outside of their walls, specifically their motives. With Aiden searching to increase his power, she is determined to understand why he’s seeking greater understanding outside of his classes.
Come, sit down and allow me to give you a mini-escape and kindle your imagination.
Arlen stretched out her arm as her lips curled upward. “Aiden, what actions would you perform if the weather obeyed your whims?”
The student sauntered to the window and peered through it, tugging his collar. “I would create a personal patch of sunshine.”
“That’s your answer?”
With a snort, Aiden spun around, jerking a thumb over his shoulder. “Given the downpour, I’d settle for keeping myself dry.”
The teacher shook her head as she raised a hand and snapped. As the boom echoed off the walls, a bolt of lightning slammed into a nearby tree. She leaned forward and tsked. “When I ask you a question, your response shouldn’t be so flippant.” She clasped her hands behind her back and sauntered to the window. “Now, before we continue, I want your honest answer.”
“I don’t know what I’d do with that kind of power.”
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With Samuel’s previous story entrenched in my mind, the initial draft draft flowed through my fingers. Over the next several passes, I tossed certain aspects and solidified other bits of the narrative. As the magical injury continues to sap Samuel of his strength, Anna guides their dragons in a search for help. When they reached the nearby village, she’s quickly directed toward a doctor on the outskirts of town.
So, grab a seat and your popcorn as you follow the aftermath of Samuel’s last search.
Despite Anna sealing both sides of the wound, Samuel’s condition continues to deteriorate. After lashing Samuel to Pearl, Anna searched for help…
The moment Bruce’s talons tore into the earth, Anna’s fingers unlatched herself from the dragon’s harness. As Pearl landed beside Bruce, Anna leapt from his back and cupped her palms around her mouth as she whirled toward the simple cottage. “I need some help!”
Her hands fell as she rushed to Pearl’s side. As she unfastened the lashing tying Samuel to his dragon, the front door swung open, letting the soft glow of candlelight rush out. As Anna’s fingers flew across the cords, an elderly man stepped into the opening. As his gaze swept between the dragons, his arms slid behind his back. “What brings you to my home?”
“I’m hauling your next patient off his mount.” When the final restraint fell from Samuel’s chest, Anna hooked an arm under her friend’s and pulled him off Perl. Once his feet touched the ground, Anna grunted and the dragon’s tail slithered under Samuel’s arms, lightening the load. With Pearl sharing the burden, Anna inched closer to Samuel, positioning him farther up her shoulder.
“What’s wrong with him?”
Anna’s gaze whipped to the opening as she stepped toward the cottage. “He was shot with a spelled ball.”
As the elderly gentleman retreated into his home, a youthful man rushed from the quaint cabin. A handful of strides carried the younger individual across the courtyard. Instantly, he pulled Samuel from Anna’s grasp and tossed the unconscious patient over his shoulder. The assistant inclined his head and spun around, dashing into the simple structure.
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After writing a handful of Ghost Stories, I leaned into the pattern of Journey of Thanks. Ever since then, I’ve taken a random shade and placed them in a position to discover a key truth about their life. Sometimes, it’s something dealing with their death, and other times, it is central to how they live and their impact on the people in their lives. It’s a wonderful scaffold and one I enjoy building onto with every Ghost Story.
So, grab a chair and get cozy while you explore this little piece of mystery.
After being gifted with another stint on this mortal coil, a shade is led to an alleyway where he discovers a pair of mourners…
The ghost lifted an arm as his tongue ran across his ethereal lips. With a quick glance at the note attached to his palm, he drifted closer to the alleyway as his head twisted over his shoulder. When he reached the corner, the shade climbed up the brick building like a spider. Halfway up the wall, he peered around the structure and watched delicate fingers lower a white rose to the concrete slab.
The man standing beside the child pulled something from his jacket and a tongue of flame flared to life from the lighter clenched in his other hand. When the wick burst alight, he placed the candle up against the brick wall. As the fire flickered, he wrapped his arms around the girl like a comforting blanket.
While the pair mourned, the ghost descended to the ground and his feet sank into the sidewalk. After several moments of silence, he studied the note and shook his head. He spun away from the mourners as his body lifted from the concrete. When the shade drifted to the alley’s mouth, a feminine voice shattered the intense stillness. “What brought you here?”
The phantom’s gaze whipped about, dragging his torso along. As the soft sound rippled off the hard surfaces, his eyes bounced back and forth, finally latching onto the sound’s source, descending upon the mourning family. The graceful figure’s descent ceased as she drew in line with the elderly man. She reached out and pressing her flickering fingertips into the man’s chest.
The specter drifted closer to the strange ghost and the living as his tongue ran across his lips. “Who are you?”
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However, I’ve never gone on a trip to upend my life all on my own. Every solitary trip I’ve made had a specific purpose. I don’t think I could handle storming off into the unknown on my own. So when I grabbed this first line prompt, “She was a stranger in a strange land…”, I had an inkling of the tale I wanted to tell. While a larger tale is nipping at my heels, I focused on the bravery of this woman and her journey to a strange land all on her own.
Come, sit down and allow me to give you a mini-escape and kindle your imagination.
As a stranger disembarked the boat, her gaze scrutinized the busy pier. With each step across the worn and wooden planks, her jaw clenched. Once she stepped onto the cobblestones, she paused, pulling the fabric of her cloak to her chest as she peered behind her. When she turned around, she bumped into someone.
“Who are you?” A gruff voice asked as foul air washed over the woman’s face.
She tightened the grasp of her clothing as she inched away from the looming guard.
After several heartbeats, the thug lunged for the woman.
She released the cloak and ducked under the thickly muscled and encroaching limb. Once clear, she rushed into the busy marketplace. As she wove through the milling throng, she glanced over her shoulder, cursing as the mercenary plowed through the people.
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Darvin sauntered through the hangar doors and strode across the open chamber, stopping beside the ship. His fingertips reached up and traced the cold chassis as his gaze swept about the sparse space. The living mountain clenched his hand and banged the hull. “Giselle, are you aboard the craft?”
A groan ripped through the vast room as the pilot’s head rose from inside the cockpit. With a huff, the young pilot peered over the compartment. Her eyes rolled up as she twirled her fingers. “Darvin, what are you doing here? I figured you would have more important matters to attend to rather than pestering me before my launch?”
“I’m here to determine your readiness for your departure.” He kept his fingertips pressed against the cold metal as he sauntered under the vessel’s chassis. When he came to the front of the vessel, he knocked against the hull as he stepped out from under the craft. “Given our shared history, are you surprised by this final visit to ensure a smooth expedition?”
The pilot rubbed her forehead as she clambered out of the ship and climbed down the ladder. Once she reached the bottom rung, Giselle dropped to the ground and spun about to lean against the rough rungs. Propping her foot against the last one, she folded her arms across her chest. “I expected as much, but I was hoping you would trust me to follow your instructions. Which portion of your detailed directives do you consider too unwieldy to observe?”
“There’s no need to be snippy.” The living mountain shook his head as he sauntered down the hull, tracing it with his fingertips. When he stepped next to Giselle, he removed the bottom panel, exposing the inner circuitry. Darvin leaned against the hatch and probed the circuits. “Despite the quality of the supply chain, given the quick turnaround, it’s important to triple check everything.”
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“Jarvis, order the teams to cease firing,” Cecile said, huffing as she leaned into the crow’s nest.
After a dragon’s neck and wing vaporized, Jarvis tipped his gun into the arms of his teammate and rushed to Cecile, gripping her shoulders. “We can’t stop using these weapons.”
Cecile ripped Jarvis’s hands from her and thumped his chest. “If you keep them running at this rate, they’ll blow up.”
The closest gunner dropped his cannon and backed away. “What did you say?!”
With a snap, Jarvis spun around. “Continue dealing with those dragons!” Jarvis pulled Cecile closer and closed her eyes. “I thought you fixed that problem.”
With a heavy sigh, she shoved her hands on her hips as her face drew into a point. “Unfortunately, continual use wasn’t part of my design.” She gripped the collar of his shirt and forced him to look at the cannons. “Stop overusing these guns!”
Jarvis pinched his nose as he shook his head. “What are the odds they’ll detonate?”
“Does it matter?!”
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Whenever I sit down and hold these items, the memories of my youth flood into me, lightening my burdens. Without those tangible items to reinforce my memories, the recollections will fade, and I’ll lose them forever.
With those thoughts firmly embedded into my thoughts, my fingers instantly created the outline for this brief tale when I pulled the random first line, “He had waited twenty years to return it…”. The heirloom I created for this narrative was a simple golden necklace. While I altered the initial words of my story, I kept their sentiment. Pairing this prompt with the Horror genre was an easy pairing for me, especially since I have a monster hunter ready for his history to be further fleshed out. As a result, I pair him with the gold medallion and sent him to visit the previous owner.
Come, sit down and allow me to give you a mini-escape and kindle your imagination.
Solomon twirled the necklace around his fingers as he strolled through the headstones. When he reached the end of the line, the hunter laid the golden medallion on the final marker and kneeled in front of the stone. He gripped the slab and leaned forward, kissing its hard edge. “I think I’m ready to release my anger, Rebecca.”
A series of moans ripped through the evening and Solomon’s fingers released the headstone as he hopped from the ground. Instantly, he snatched the heirloom and inched away from the shambling horde bearing down on him. With a curse, Solomon whirled around, finding another mass of zombies approaching.
The stoic hunter slipped the medallion over his head. “Rebecca, there are easier ways to encourage me to continue waging this war.”
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With those skills fixed in my mind, my lips twisted as I realized how to use them to tell another micro-tale with these two characters. It also provided me with a chance to delve into more of Ramas’s skills, especially for those paying attention.
Come, sit down and allow me to give you a mini-escape and kindle your imagination.
The glowing sphere brushed aside the bough and Ramas stepped up to the riverbank as the swirling green spots dimmed across the river. He slammed the staff into the earth, and the dirt swelled under his feet. Ramas lifted his hands and the patch of ground ripped free and flinging him across the water.
When he reached the far side, Ramas’s grasp tightened around the rod as he jumped off the crumbling palanquin. He dashed to the mound of motes and grabbed the man’s shirt. With a curse, he pulled the man up and traced the wound. As the crimson substance flowed, Ramas’s fingers slid up to the fellow’s neck. After a few seconds, he sighed as blood pumped past his fingertips.
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Hunker down in your chair and enjoy the artwork below. As always, if you want a better look, click a picture to head over to my DeviantArt gallery and consider buying a print.
]]>Isaac grasped his wrists behind his back as he stared through the window. As the seconds ticked away, the pilot watched the individuals below meander about the courtyard. When footfalls thundered through the hallway, his eyes flicked up and his lips curled into a grin. “Quinn, if you called me down here to give me unpleasant tidings, things won’t go well for you.”
Laughter rang out as the vice-chairman gripped Isaac’s shoulder. With a squeeze, he pointed at the structure in the distance. “Despite the construction equipment, Caitlin will stand on the dais in the center of that building and address this federation for the first time. However, given upcoming events, I’d like to have a good meal with my friend.”
The pilot’s smile softened as he tapped the glass and glanced over his shoulder. “Dragging me to a fancy establishment is a way to soften disappointing news.” The pilot spun about and poked Quinn’s chest. “You wouldn’t be trying to set me up for that kind of unfortunate disclosure, would you?”
“You’re a suspicious person.”
Isaac turned around and gripped his friend’s shoulders. He leaned forward and inhaled sharply. “Do you promise that you are not about to yank me from this assignment?”
“As soon as Caitlin finishes her speech, she’ll dispatch you and your team to explore the surrounding cosmos.”
Isaac clapped and vigorously rubbed his hands together.
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To continue reading the story, click here to head over to Wattpad.
With my initial draft complete, took a brief break to churn through another chapter of my latest project. Unfortunately, that novel is chock full of sentimental value, and I spent far too long listening to the siren call of my story. When I took a break, the end of the month loomed over me. Despite the shrinking time to complete the narrative, I cracked my knuckles and back before sitting down to power through the editing process for Dangerous Shadows.
So, grab a seat and your popcorn as you follow Samuel’s latest hunt for his fugitive.
After dismounting their dragons, Samuel and Anna split up and delve into an expansive forest as they search for their latest fugitive…
Glancing up through the canopy, Samuel caught sight of his dragon skirting above the trees. With a deep breath, he slipped his rifle behind his back as he stopped alongside a tree. After peering through the thick foliage, he crept through the forest and pulled his pistol from the holster slung around his right thigh. Samuel thrust the barrel toward the nearing glade as he ground his teeth.
When he reached the opening, Samuel pressed his shoulder against a trunk. He peered across the clearing and scrutinized the deepest strip of shadows. He shook his head and followed the tree line until he spotted a glinting bit of sunlight. Samuel leveled his LeMat at the patch of shadow engulfing the reflection as he leaned against a stout tree. As Samuel pulled the weapon’s hammer back, he held his breath and lined up the iron sights on the target.
As he positioned the gun on his mark, a guttural bellow washed across the forest, rattling the dangling leaves, and the reflected light vanished. With a wince, Samuel lowered his pistol and punched the trunk. When the foliage stilled, Samuel thrust his handgun forward and stepped into the clearing.
Bang!
A lead ball slammed into Samuel’s shoulder, spinning him around and knocking him to the ground.
As pain radiated from the impact, Samuel touched the exit wound and cringed. After a series of curses died off, Samuel flipped over and searched the grass for his weapon. When his fingers brushed the cold metal of his pistol, a sigh rushed past his lips as he grasped the barrel. While Samuel rolled to his butt, he grasped his LeMat’s grip and inched toward the far side of the clearing, with the trembling gun wavering about the looming trees.
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With that memory firmly entrenched in my mind, I plucked a pair of characters from one of my worlds and focused on a lesson as old as time. However, with a limit of two hundred and fifty words, I couldn’t focus on the confrontation, so I jumped into the tale after the carnage. It also leaned into the first line prompt generated over at Writing Exercises, ‘The attack was over in seconds…’
Come, sit down and allow me to give you a mini-escape and kindle your imagination.
The attack was over in seconds. As the massive bear circled the unconscious feline, the cat’s limbs shrank while the black fur receded. When the flesh stopped transforming, a human laid in the shallow stream. With a roar, the bear’s body rippled, revealing a muscular individual with dark eyes and a chiseled jaw.
With a growl, the heavy-set man hauled the body from the water and propped it against a tree. He squatted down and patted the stranger’s cheek. “Wake up.”
After several gentle strikes, the stranger’s eyelids fluttered. He ran his fingers across his chest as his gaze dropped. “What happens now?”
“That depends on you.”
The stranger inched away from the victor as his fingernails transformed into talons. “I’m shocked that I woke up.”
“My name’s Lander,” the massive man said as he slammed his foot onto the stranger’s wrist. “That kind of aggression won’t end well for you. What’s your name?”
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He kept absolutely still as the footsteps got louder…
At first, I didn’t understand how I could weave those words into a comedy. Then I remembered Blue Streak. As I leaned into the movie for inspiration, a storyline popped into my mind. So, grab a seat, get comfortable, and enjoy the tale.
When approaching footsteps tore through the thick silence, an intruder slips into a vacant office to wait for his next opening…
He kept absolutely still as the footsteps got louder. While holding his breath, the intruder positioned a compact mirror against the open doorframe. The tool caught the dim light through the opening, revealing an approaching guard. As the echoes from each footfall intensified, the young man eased the door shut while shoving the polished metal into a pocket. After the footfalls rose to a crescendo, he licked his lips and tracked the passing seconds with his extending fingers. When a fresh silence wrapped around him like a weighted blanket, he slipped through the doorway and resumed his search.
He paused at every doorframe, reading the placard until his fingertips traced the letters for the record room. His gaze swept down both sides of the corridor as he withdrew his lock picks and kneeled in front of the doorknob. He slid the tools into the lock, and with a few deft motions, teased the tumblers out of the cylinder and slithered inside the chamber as he pulled a flashlight from his pocket.
Instantly, a beam of light sliced through the darkness, illuminating the massive file cabinets filling the chamber. He inched closer, searching for the drawers dedicated to clients with m names. After a few seconds, he located the first one and tugged it free while he gripped the light with his teeth. He flipped through the markings, methodically working through the first few drawers. Halfway through the fourth one, his eyes widened as his fingers tightened around a folder.
He laid the file down as he withdrew a different packet from under his shirt. The young fellow flipped both files open and exchanged their contents. With a glance over his shoulder, he closed the folders. He shoved the original into the drawer while he tucked the liberated documents under his arm. With his prize collected, he marched over to the door, retrieving the mirror. After ensuring both sides of the hallway were vacant, he dashed through the halls and raced down the stairwell. He burst through the building’s exit and bolted to the car idling nearby. With a growing smile, he slipped into the vehicle and proffered the file to the woman sitting behind the driver’s seat.
“You know, based on how long you were up there, I figured you were making me a handwritten copy.”
“You’re hilarious, Selina.”
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The most memorable dive was the aforementioned shark dive. Despite the sharks being Caribbean Reef Sharks, the company required us to sign a release. And while they always used the dingy to pick up divers that were fatigued, before we got into the water, they reminded us they were attracting the sharks with the dingy, besides the chum line. At the time, and even now, that line brought a smile to my face. As a result, when I pulled the prompt for this piece, I leaned into the memory when I sat down to write this tale.
Come, sit down and allow me to give you a mini-escape and kindle your imagination.
A lean man reached out and traced the clear doorframe. When he finished, he glanced over his shoulder. “Peter, is this safe?”
“It’s safer than the real thing,” Peter said, stopping beside the other fellow. He spun his friend about and brushed the red flight suit. “Logan, you’ve always wanted to experience the thrill of skydiving. Unfortunately, you’re not fond of walking out of a perfectly functional aircraft.”
“That doesn’t answer the question.”
Peter wrapped an arm around Logan’s shoulders and patted the man’s chest. “This chamber will allow you to fly like Icarus.”
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As the door swung open, Darvin entered the establishment with his head whipping about. When his eyes landed on the sole guest in the restaurant, the living mountain scurried to the table and slid into the vacant chair across from his old friend. He pressed a thick finger onto the plate and pulled it toward him as he leaned closer to the food. “What did you order, Rylan?”
The fork’s tines whistled through the air as they struck the massive man’s fingers. Hooking his dish with the fork, Rylan slid it back into place while focusing on Darvin. “If you’re hungry, feel free to request some service from the staff, but don’t mess with my dinner.”
“I had no intention of eating anything off your plate.” Darvin glanced about the small cafe and lifted a finger when he noticed the server idly wiping a nearby table. “The aroma emanating from your food is intoxicating, so I wanted an idea of what I’m going to eat. Have you been getting enough sleep recently?”
Rylan placed his utensils down and grasped his drink with both hands. “Liam’s flunkies are making waves, both in government and on the streets.”
“What can I get you, sir?”
Darvin pointed at the remnants of Rylan’s meal. “I’ll have whatever you brought, my friend.”
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To continue reading the story, click here to head over to Wattpad.
A man in his early twenties, who is very eccentric. The story begins in a remote cottage. A mysterious message is pinned to the door. It’s a story about survival. Your character has to make some difficult compromises in order to succeed.
While I might not tick every box from the prompt, I used the above blurb to craft a tale that got my blood pumping.
So, grab a seat and get comfortable while we watch this adventure unfold.
After building his new home in the woods, a weary Charles prepares to enjoy the fruits of his labor when something slams into his door…
THUNK!
Charles jumped from his chair and stormed toward the exit of his home. He stopped a scant inch from the door and his trembling fingers inched touched the handle. Tentatively, he wrapped his hand around the doorknob and eased the thick wooden slab out of its frame.
As it swung inward, Charles’s gaze fell upon a note pinned to the wood by an arrow. While he yanked the paper free, his eyes swept across the trees lining the clearing. Despite the din of the forest and its inhabitants, he couldn’t find something that didn’t belong. With his heartbeat slowing, Charles read the simple message.
Unless you run immediately, you have no chance to enjoy another sunrise.
When Charles’s arm fell to his thigh, pain erupted from his nose. He released the document, and it zigzagged through the air while his fingers flew to the injury, igniting a second bloom of agony. With a wince, he pulled his fingertips from his face and stared at the blood rolling down his skin.
An archer emerged from the shadows, nocking an arrow as the gentle breeze tossed her long locks about her shoulders. With a smooth motion, she prepared her next shot and aimed for Charles’s neck. “You won’t get a second warning.”
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When I grabbed a first line prompt, ‘We could get arrested for this..’, my mind instantly drew upon those memories. After the thoughts tumbled together in my mind, the first draft of the mini-story flew from my fingers effortlessly. It didn’t take long for me to fine tune this interaction between Harry and Sean.
Come, sit down and allow me to give you a mini-escape and kindle your imagination.
“We could get arrested for this.”
“You worry too much, Harry.” Sean wrapped his fingers around the glass and sipped the amber liquid. With a lopsided grin, he withdrew a notepad and slid it across the table. “I’ve been planning this job for a long time.”
Harry pulled a fry from his plate and waved it like a conductor directing his orchestra. “There’s a reason the saying, no plan survives initial contact with the enemy, exists.”
“This one is perfect.”
Harry tore the slice of potato in half and popped the smaller piece into his mouth. “The greatest generals in history achieved their reputation because of their willingness and ability to adapt.”
“I’ve planned every detail. Nothing’s going to happen.”
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“Are you interested in going out for the night?”
Darren eased his tools down and rubbed his eyes. Turning around, he rose from his chair and walked to the door. With a grunt, he folded his arms across his chest and scowled. “I’m sorry Maxwell. Unfortunately, I am working on an assignment from Arlen.”
Maxwell shouldered past Darren as he sauntered through the doorframe. “What are you talking about?” He paused in the middle of the floor and shrugged. “She hasn’t assigned us any work recently, and you made a point of complaining that she and the rest of the teachers have ceased giving you private lessons.”
“Bah,” Darren said as he stepped in front of his classmate and grabbed the dwarf’s shoulders. With a heave, Darren spun Maxwell like a top and escorted the tenuous friend toward the exit. “You’re right, this isn’t for her class.”
Maxwell’s eyes blinked as he elbowed Darren’s gut and rolled out of his grasp.
“Oof!”
With a broad grin, the dwarf skirted Darren to examine the implements scattered about the table. He lifted the small scribe and twirled it around his fingers. “What are you doing with all of this?”
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To continue reading the story, click here to head over to Wattpad.
While my home doesn’t back into a forest, it has a collection of trees which occasionally trigger memories of exploration from my youth. And recently, one of these memories sparked Ramas’s next tale in his struggle against Emilie and her minions. Unfortunately, it’s far too soon to bring Emilie directly into conflict with Ramas, but I wanted a chance to explore a battle between two people with this gift.
While I won’t be able to delve into a full battle given the constraints of Micro Fiction, I should be able to highlight Rama’s quick mind and ingenuity.
Come, sit down and allow me to give you a mini-escape and kindle your imagination.
As Ramas’s palanquin skimmed over the foliage, he wove between the trees as he rolled his shoulders. When he neared the edge of a glade, a dagger flew toward him. Ramas thrust his hand at the flying hunk of metal, and it burst into dust, falling harmlessly to the earth.
“Who’s there?”
A figure slid across the clearing with arms spread like a raptor. “Don’t you remember me, Ramas?”
With a groan, Ramas slammed his materializing staff against the palanquin. “Ridley, I’ll assume you rushed fled to Emilie’s seeking her protection?”
“You never understood the concept of power.” The interloper raised his hands and shards ripped from the earth, altering into metal as they circled Ramas.
“The sight has driven you all mad,” Ramas said, twirling his staff overhead.
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However, those plans are for the future, and today I’m bringing a new installment to my Discovery series. When last I entered this world, Jarvis and Ferrek were laying the groundwork for a treaty between their respective people. After Ferrek left, the horde of monsters and creatures surrounded Jarvis and his people. Fortunately, Cecile has had some success duplicating the Plasma Cannon. Will these weapons help against the endless horde? Or will the monsters storm through the wall?
“Cecile, how many plasma cannons were you able to complete?”
“I completed three and a half, Jarvis.”
“Oh goodie,” Fenton said, shaking his head. “What’s the benefit of the unfinished cannon?”
As a groan escaped Jarvis’s lips, his fingertips massaged his eyes. “Go man the wall, Fenton. Once there, order a handful of the best marksmen to the nest.”
“I’ll see to it,” Jarvis said, his gaze lingering on Cecile.
After Fenton left, Jarvis’s attention drifted toward the screen. His finger traced a few of the hideous monsters lining the monitor. “Well, as far as a ground assault, it looks like the beasts have diversified.” Jarvis enlarged the image and studied one of the new critters. “Thankfully, Tarian’s notes contained detailed descriptions of our foes. We’ll focus on the newest monstrosities before their rampage starts.”
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To continue reading the story, click here to head over to Wattpad.
With the extremely broad strokes of the narrative in mind, I sat in front of my keyboard and stared at the blinking curser while I wondered what tale I could write. It took me a while, but after some brainstorming, I decided to focus on the end of another job. Eventually, I may turn back the clock and explore the details of the job, but for now come and watch Laurie try to reconcile their work with the lack of details their employer provided.
So, grab a seat and get comfortable while we watch Daniel and Laurie finish their latest job.
After completing their latest job, the crew of the Scythe returns to the client’s home in the stars, but Laurie has misgivings…
“What was so important with this job, Daniel?”
While a groan slipped through his clenched teeth, the captain stopped and turned around. He hurried over to Laurie and gripped her shoulders. For a handful of heartbeats, the pair stared past the buildings and watched the nebula swirl throughout the sea of stars. He spun her about, gripping Laurie’s waist as he pulled her away from the majestic scene. “Laurie, the only concern with the work, is collecting the payment we were promised for our effort.”
“I understand our side of the equation.” She poked his ribs with her fingertip, pulling a gasp from his lips. With a smile plastered across her face, Laurie’s head fell to his chest while they continued walking down the street. “Do not forget I negotiated the arrangement.”
“Then why are you wondering about the details?”
Laurie lifted the slender briefcase, letting the artificial light from the crossbeams reflect against the dull metal casing. “Why was our employer so eager to hide the goal of the job?”
“I don’t know,” Daniel said as he shoved the case to her legs. A moment later, they neared an intersection, and he peered past the edifice, chewing his lips. He pushed off the wall and dragged her across the street, hustling into the makeshift park.
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Arrogance introduced this rogue spell slinger to one of the many shifting tribes scattered throughout her world. While that tribe will let her stay, despite the danger of being pursued by the Hunters, Tiatha doesn’t want harm to befall them, so she constantly on the move, spending limited amounts of time with each group of shifters.
So, grab a seat and get comfortable while we return to Tiatha’s story.
Despite her goodwill with the shifters, Tiatha is attacked as she is hiking towards a tribe of shifters in the mountains…
As sunlight pierced through the foliage, Tiatha’s hand pushed a heavy branch aside. She arched her neck as the woodland chatter rang out. Taking a deep breath, she sauntered from the tree line and plunged her hands into the brisk liquid. While the current washed the grime off her fingers, her deft fingertips danced around the smooth stones. Her gaze drifted downstream as her knee touched the damp earth. “Why can’t Lander’s tribe live closer to Alain’s?”
Tiatha pulled her hand from the gurgling water, flicking the larger droplets back into the river. With a shake of her head, she cupped her hands under the surface, collecting a handful and then poured the precious liquid past her cracking lips. As she wiped her mouth, Tiatha removed the waterskin from her belt, yanking the plug from the supple leather and thrust it into the rippling stream.
Once she filled it, she shoved the stopper into the opening. Her gaze whipped downstream as she laid the skin’s cord over her shoulder. While the fog drifted across the choppy water, Tiatha inched away as her right hand crept under her cloak, gripping the hilt of her dagger.
“Who’s there?”
A forehead emerged from the whitewater as the mist swirled over his scalp. As the eyes flowed upstream, a muscular man arose, with the dense clouds coiling about him like a snake constricting around its prey.
“Who are you?”
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However, after some thought and watching a couple of Christmas movies, the narrative leapt into my mind. May you all enjoy the snippet below and have a Merry Christmas!
So, grab a seat and get comfortable as we delve into a heartwarming tale for the season.
Dawn’s mother brought her to the mall so she could visit Santa, but as they near Dawn’s poor behavior weighs on her like an anchor…
A little girl peeked out from her mother’s leg, gripping her jacket. The child’s furtive gaze danced between the festive decorations lining this section of the mall, the lone figure sitting on an ornate chair and the other children in the line. As her fingers tightened around her mother’s jacket, the girl’s eyes fell from the oversized candy canes to Santa. The jolly man bent down, plucking the next child off the ground, placing the boy on his lap.
“Don’t gawk, Dawn.” The mother placed an arm behind her daughter and pulled her forward. When they stopped, she kneeled in front of Dawn and ran a finger down her daughter’s cheek. “You need to pay attention and walk with the line darling.”
After a brief exchange, the kid sitting on Santa’s lap squealed as the jolly man withdrew a box from the nearby sack. The boy’s hand latched onto the gift as he bounced off Santa and scurried toward his parents, clutching his present, like a starving man clinging to food. The whispers of the children in line washed over Dawn as her arms encircled her mother’s neck.
As Dawn leaned back, her lips dropped as her tearful eyes clung to the man wrapped in red. “I changed my mind. Let’s leave?”
However, with a fluid motion, Dawn’s mother wrapped her arms around her daughter while her lips curled into a warm smile. “It’s almost your turn. Don’t you want to tell Santa what to place under your stocking when he stops at our home?”
Dawn’s head whipped back as she wriggled, trying to flee.
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For this outing, it didn’t take me long to drop my spy, Tavon Burris, into a clandestine meeting complete with an important exchange.
So, grab a seat and get comfortable as I transport you to a world full of shadows.
Tavon sat down at the table, placing his tray in front of him and his satchel on the floor. While his gaze swept the chamber, his hand wrapped around the tall glass, and he brought it to his mouth. After a brief pause, he took a deep breath through his nose and smiled as the bouquet of fresh berries with a hint of honey teased a smile to his lips. Tavon sipped from the cup and placed it down as he grabbed his utensils.
He spun the plate about, slicing off a modest bite from his steak. As he speared the morsel, a woman slipped into the seat across from him. Tavon shoved the hunk of meat into his mouth and pushed himself away from the table. Tavon laid the briefcase on his lap and opened the hinges. “How are you doing today, Ana?”
“I’ve been better.”
Tavon closed the latches and scooted toward his guest. He pressed the case against the tabletop as he cut another piece. “I’m sorry that you’ve had a rough day.” Tavon thrust the tines of his fork into the meat. “What can I do to help ease your burden?”
Ana placed her hands on the wooden surface and slid them to Tavon.
With a grim smile, Tavon shoved the platter to the edge of the table and grasped her hands. As he positioned one hand under hers, Ana released the round object, dropping it onto Tavon’s palm. Instantly, his fingers tightened around it and squeezed until the color drained from his fingertips. “Please tell me if there’s anything I can do to help you.”
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So grab a comfortable seat and prepare yourself for following a shade on his last journey.
Jacob lifted his palm and flicked the attached note as he drifted down the street. When he neared a building, he thrust his unencumbered hand into the bricks of its exterior. With every inch taken, the shade spread his fingers apart like a net catching fish. As he passed the building’s edge, his ethereal fingertips ripped from the structure as if the stones were the surface of a pond. He stopped in the alley’s mouth and stared at a distant brick barrier.
The ghost rose above the buildings and cupped his hands around his lips. “What do you want from me?”
As silence answered Jacob’s cry, the ghost’s shoulders hunched while he dropped like a feather. When he neared the street, he turned his hand and read the note. After his ghostly body touched the ground, Jacob’s gaze rose. He whipped his tattooed palm over his head. “There isn’t a single reason I’d visit a park in my afterlife.”
Thunder rumbled from the sky.
“Wasn’t I supposed to rest in peace?” As the racket died away, the shade’s focus shifted from the clouds to his hand and the misty tendrils stretching out from his body. With an audible sigh, the ghost lifted off the ground and spun around, waving the note. “Fine, I’ll make your trip.”
When Jacob wafted across the street, the rumbling thunder quieted while his ethereal figure rose above the buildings. As he floated above the city, the wisps erupting from Jacob’s back fluttered like a flag in the wind. Once he reached the park, his left palm convulsed. He opened his hand to find the letters altering. When the swirling gold stopped moving, the note directed him to the basketball courts.
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The first thing that popped into my mind when I thought about this genre was a firefight. As a result, I let myself linger on that thought and created what I hope people will find to be a fun story. As our fearless hero tries to retrieve a single object from the center of the valley.
So come, sit down and allow me to drop you into the middle of a raid.
As Barney creeps toward the center of a valley, he must bypass the soldiers trying to prevent him from completing his mission…
As the barrel slid across the rough stone, Barney’s eyes crept past the edge. His gaze swept around the ground as he licked his lips. As the silence grew, Barney grabbed a pebble lying beside him and tossed it to his left. When it struck a nearby pillar, a hail of shots fired as he hopped to his feet and dashed toward the fallen slab of marble. As he dropped behind the protection provided by the impromptu barricade, a shot whizzed over his head. “You missed me!”
“That trick won’t work again!”
Barney’s fingers gripped his chest as his lips curled into a faint smile. Pressing his shoulders against the shielding stone, Barney pulled a cylindrical object from his pocket. The small rod crested the marble, and the attached series of mirrors allowed Barney to survey the battlefield.
Between him and his goal near the center of the valley were three encampments, with gun barrels thrusting out from the barricades. Barney shoved the tool into its compartment as he rolled to his left, dropping to his stomach. He crawled into the tall grass running along the edge and inched toward the nearest encampment.
After crawling through the dense foliage for a subjective eternity, Barney’s periscope emerged from the tips of the whipping blades of grass. With a grin, he inched forward until his gun poked through the grass curtain. He widened his stance and aimed at the person’s back. As he exhaled, Barney squeezed the trigger and a burst of ammunition raced from his barrel and slammed into his victim.
A momentary cry broke the tense silence as the individual collapsed face first.
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Hunker down in your chair and enjoy the artwork below. As always, if you want a better look, click a picture to head over to my DeviantArt gallery and consider buying a print.
]]>However, when you thumb through the images, I added to my DeviantArt gallery. I’d like to highlight Harsh Gaze](https://www.deviantart.com/stevenmeehan/art/Harsh-Gaze-896587382 “Harsh Gaze”), Banshee, and Battle. All three are available as prints, but if you enjoy the samples of my artwork using the liquify tool, they are both available as digital purchases.
Hunker down in your chair and enjoy the artwork below. As always, if you want a better look, click a picture to head over to my DeviantArt gallery and consider buying a print.
]]>Outside of my Halloween picture, I would like to highlight Burning Torch and Liquified Clouds 901. Burning Torch is another example of the fun that I can tease out of the liquify tool from digital art applications. Once I created the basic shape of the flame, I worked on giving the torch its definition and texture. When I brought the image as far as I could with my tablet, I exported the image into a Photoshop file and used the collection of brushes to give the flame more definition.
I’ve created plenty of liquified texture pieces since I started delving into my artwork. Part of the reason I continue to create these is because of the tranquility I find in the process. But there is a more practical reason, creating the gradients to color the liquified shapes. When I sat done to add the gradient map for this latest series of liquified textures, I fell in love with this gradient. I hope you all enjoy the patterns you’ll find in this series.
Hunker down in your chair and enjoy the artwork below. As always, if you want a better look click a picture to head over to my DeviantArt gallery and consider buying a print.
]]>Until my mind pulled The Legend of Sleepy Hollow and Ichabod Crane into focus. Not the recent tv show, rather the Walt Disney cartoon. Even after twenty-odd years, the image of the headless horseman brandishing a Jack-o’-lantern has stuck with me. Now when you are out trick or treating, you’ll see these carved pumpkins ranging from silly to the creepy.
However, all that means is I found my inspiration, but without substance a creepy gourd won’t sell the Horror genre. As a result, I delved into the darker corners of my mind, searching for a way to craft an interesting story that unsettles my patrons. With that in mind, I whipped up a young couple, some evening fog, and their choice to explore a farmer’s pumpkin patch.
So come, sit down and allow me to escort you through this couple’s Halloween jaunt.
Follow Wayne and Christine as they traipse through a farmer’s field, as Wayne attempts to present Christine with a perfect evening…
With Christine’s hand gripped tightly around Wayne’s, he pulled her alongside the fence line. When they reached a gap in the barrier, he freed his arm and expanded the opening. Once she strode through the hole, Wayne followed while keeping it open. When he released his grip, the wire snapped back into place and Wayne spun toward Christine.
She stepped forward, poking his chest. “Where are we?”
“Don’t you enjoy surprises?”
As Christine inched closer, the flog flowed across her face like a caressing hand. Her smile twisted while her fingernail dug into his skin. “It depends, but considering we went through a fence, tell me where we are.”
Wayne stepped away from her fingertip and caressed the spot. “We’re exploring old man Hornell’s fields.”
She whirled around as she clutched her shoulders. “Why are we traipsing about his farmland after midnight?”
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To continue reading head over to my Patreon page and become a patron, $2 a month will give you access to this and other flash fiction stories.
However, that’s enough of an update for my collection of short stories. Between finishing Seconds and another section of my short stories, I revisited my master thief, Jessica. However, this time, instead of placing her at the end of some convoluted job for hire, I wanted to highlight a bit of her character. It didn’t take long for a story to embed itself in my mind.
So come, sit down and allow me to tease you with Jessica’s choice of investment.
Every so often, Jessica refuses to accept work for hire. During these voluntary breaks, she takes care of her future finances…
When the soft tile cleared the metallic frame, Jessica laid it atop another. Smiling, the thief slid across the rope until she dangled over the opening. Her nimble fingers attached an anchor to the support beam and threaded a second line through it. After securing the additional cable, she transferred herself to the new cord and lowered her head through the hole.
When her eyes emerged into the storeroom, the thief wrapped the rope around the hook affixed to her waist until the slack vanished. As she hung in the air, she grinned at the jewelry spread out below her. Jessica withdrew a small trinket from the pocket strapped to her thigh and pulled its connector free as she unfolded the device. Once the wire stopped flowing from the housing, Jessica inserted the plug into the camcorder. Instantly, her machine flared to life and images splashed across its screen. When a solid color filled the display, Jessica tapped the sole button on the left side of the enclosure and pressed it against the single security camera.
While the thief’s mouth curled into a warm smile, she tugged on the rope, creating enough slack to unhook it from her belt. She held herself in the opening and stared down at the loose stones arrayed beneath her. As Jessica took a deep breath, she lowered herself from the ceiling, one inch at a time. When her fingertips brushed the glass, she kicked, flipping herself over.
She rocked back and forth until she cleared the case and released the rope. When the thief landed on the far side of the display
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To continue reading head over to my Patreon page and become a patron, $2 a month will give you access to this and other flash fiction stories.
Aside from the watcher only cartoons of Harrison and Sylvia, the only other image I posted over on DeviantArt was my third Tree Sunset. I’ve started drawing these scenes because they are some of the most beautiful views in all of nature. Hopefully, I’m able to capture a portion of their wonder.
Hunker down in your chair and enjoy the artwork below. As always, if you want a better look, click a picture to head over to my DeviantArt gallery and consider buying a print.
]]>At first, I couldn’t figure out a storyline for my flash fiction. Thankfully, while drawing the idea of dropping Samuel into a shootout popped into my mind, and I ran with it. As the plot developed, two important details emerged from watching it unfold. First, it is the first piece of flash fiction that doesn’t feature this bounty hunter’s dragon. The second tidbit is I’m showing the aftermath of the events from Runaway.
Come, sit down and allow me to guide you on Samuel’s latest adventure.
While between jobs, Samuel enters a tavern searching for a quiet drink. While savoring it, gunfire prevents him from enjoying his respite…
Samuel lifted the glass to his nose, taking a deep breath, allowing the liquid’s fragrance to inundate him. With a sigh, Samuel closed his eyes and took a sip, letting the amber fluid spread across his tongue. As the mouthful rolled down his throat, Samuel eased the refreshment onto the counter and folded his hands around the cup, licking his lips. “Daniel, how much for every drop of this whiskey?”
The bartender scoffed as he slammed the cork into the bottle. “There’s a house limit for this variety.”
Daniel swirled the amber fluid, mixing air into the drink. “Why do you do that?”
“Plenty of people like it and I cannot stock it quickly enough to let people have their fill of it,” Daniel said, flicking the cup’s rim. With a beaming smile, he whirled around and sauntered to another customer.
Samuel pressed the glass against his forehead as his fingertips slammed onto the counter.
WHACK!
Samuel’s head whipped toward the door, where a stranger stood brandishing a rifle towards him. He threw his drink down his throat as he hopped over the bar.
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To continue reading head over to my Patreon page and become a patron, $2 a month will give you access to this and other flash fiction stories.
Hunker down in your chair and enjoy the artwork below. As always, if you want a better look click a picture to head over to my DeviantArt gallery and consider buying a print.
]]>Hunker down in your chair and enjoy the artwork below. As always, if you want a better look, click a picture to head over to my DeviantArt gallery and consider buying a print.
]]>Hunker down in your chair and enjoy the artwork below. As always, if you want a better look, click a picture to head over to my DeviantArt gallery and consider buying a print.
]]>In Samuel’s previous tale, I introduced another bounty hunter and her dragon. While I danced around their shared past, I turned to the job I hinted at. Thankfully, this narrative flowed from my fingertips without needing to look for a prompt from the web. Over the four installments of Samuel’s journey, I’ve introduced two weapons for my bounty hunter, a Winchester rifle and a LeMat pistol. Typically, Samuel reaches for his long gun, but he’s pulled his hand cannon when required.
Sit down and get your popcorn ready, as Samuel and Anna search for their latest bounty.
During their meal, Anna convinced Samuel to help her secure her latest bounty. After several days, they finally pick up Jessie’s trail…
Pearl spread her wings, slowing their descent, and sliced through the air. The sudden gust of air buffeted Samuel while they drifted toward Brutus. Samuel cupped his hand around his mouth and leaned toward Anna. “Who would hide in a dying town?”
Anna pulled on her dragon’s reins, and Brutus began hovering in the sky. She laid her arms across her lap and peered at the dilapidated structures. After a few moments, Anna withdrew a small object from her jacket. “Where in the right area.”
While Pearl circled Anna, Samuel rubbed his chin. “Why didn’t you tell me about the tracking spell?”
With a shrug, she shoved the compass into her pocket, gripping the reins. “It’s not that accurate, but we’re in the general vicinity.”
“If we are that close, shouldn’t we be skimming the surface?”
Anna flourished a finger toward a distant structure. “I’m ready to head on down if you are?”
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To continue reading head over to my Patreon page and become a patron, $2 a month will give you access to this and other flash fiction stories.
After a bit of thought, I looked back on my life and remembered how I ended up going to my prom, and used it for inspiration. Sit down and get your popcorn ready, as Darcy and her mother search for Darcey’s dress at a formal clothing store, featuring a candy necklace.
Under her mother’s supervision, Darcey searches for a dress for her date with Gregory. Can they work together to discover her gown…
“Darcy, can you see yourself wearing this dress on your date with Gregory?” Elizabeth pulled a gown off the rack as she spun toward her daughter. She laid it across her forearm, stepping towards her girl. As silence built between them, Elizabeth waved the garment back and forth. “Darling, would you turn around and answer my question?”
Darcy rubbed her arm as she reached out and traced the hem of the burnt yellow fabric. She scrunched her nose as she stepped away, looping her candy necklace about her finger. “Mom, I’m pretty sure that particular hue isn’t flattering for me.”
A sigh rushed through Elizabeth’s clenched teeth as she shoved the garment onto the rack. She slid the similar dresses down the bar, stopping when she found a blue dress. “Do you have a color in mind?”
“Not really.” Darcy lifted the string of candy to her mouth, eating a couple of pieces. “Unfortunately, I am not sure what I am searching for. However, I’ll know the gown when we find it.”
“Did you like the design of the one you just rejected?”
“I’m not a huge fan of the cut.” With a scoff, Darcy walked to a different rack, munching more of the colorful rings as she flipped through the options. “You can skip all the ones from that section.”
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To continue reading head over to my Patreon page and become a patron, $2 a month will give you access to this and other flash fiction stories.
When they finished their talk, the students headed to Imryll’s classroom for their first extra session. They discover a pile of polished stones on Imryll’s desk, with her sitting on the desk’s edge.
Come, sit down and allow me to give you a mini-escape and kindle your imagination.
“Do you want me to continue throwing rocks?”
“I enchanted each of these stones, softening them.” A grin spread across Imryll’s lips as she tapped her chin. “They’re also an excellent incentive to focus.”
Daylen weighed the smooth stone in his hand, sucking on his lip. With a shrug, he heaved the rock at his friend. It raced across the classroom, striking Aiden’s chest.
“Ouch!” Aiden rubbed the fledgling bruise. “I thought you were going to teach me some new.”
Imryll’s grin widened as she lifted a finger. “Haven’t you been listening?”
“Paying attention is difficult when you’re pummeling me with an endless supply of rocks.”
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To continue reading click here and buy me a Croissant .
Hunker down in your chair and enjoy the artwork below. As always, if you want a better look, click a picture to head over to my DeviantArt gallery and consider buying a print.
]]>Thankfully, when I sat down to sketch out the story, the rough storyline popped into my mind. Each draft brought changes to narrative and solidified certain aspects of Jessica’s character. With yet another tale featuring my master thief in the books, I’m eager to continue delving into Jessica’s life.
Sit down and get your popcorn ready, as Jessica seeks to complete another job.
Jessica partners with a promising young thief to liberate a diamond while resting on its temporary home at a prominent museum…
“Are you in position yet?”
Jessica waved her clutch in front of her lips as she pressed her fingertips against her ear and stepped behind a column. Leaning against it, she surveyed the chamber. “Rod, according to the plan you weren’t supposed to reach out to me.”
“If we don’t start soon, we’ll have to pull the plug.”
Jessica’s eyes darted about the room as she rested her purse against the nape of her neck. “I’ve spoken with a dozen of your former associates, and nobody mentioned you were a worrier.” She smoothed her dress as she opened her handbag and brushed the clear stone within. “While you have an excuse to linger, if anyone notices me talking to myself, the client will be disappointed.”
“Just hurry and swap the stones.”
Jessica closed her eyes and rested her forehead against the column as her breath rushed out of her lips. She shut her clutch and bounced it against her thigh. “Fortunately, you’re not the boss.”
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To continue reading head over to my Patreon page and become a patron, $2 a month will give you access to this and other flash fiction stories.
“Anton, stop making that awful racket!”
The sporadic notes stopped as Anton twisted his head and pushed against the railing. “Norman, the silence is eerie.” Anton marched across the deck and swatted the console. “Why don’t you have a radio or satellite on this boat?”
“You weren’t hired to be entertained.” Norman released his grip on the yoke and pointed at an indention in the massive frozen cliff. “I enlisted you to assist me with my cargo. Besides, there aren’t many options available when you’re this far removed from civilization.”
“Whatever, Norman,” Anton said, waving his hand as he sauntered back to the rail, staring at the looming glaciers. “Can you explain why we fled the civilized world?” Anton chewed his lips as he wrapped his fingers around the metal bar. “Specifically, why you are steering us right into a hunk of ice.”
“We’re out here to dump my cargo in my decontamination facility.”
“Out here in a glacier?”
A dark smile spread while Norman throttled the ship’s engine. As the craft approached the icy wall, he spun the wheel, guiding the ship into the gap, plunging them into darkness. “Fortunately, out here the world’s pesky regulations don’t exist.”
Distant howls ripped through the tranquil atmosphere, chasing a shudder down Anton’s spine. With shallow breaths, his whitening fingertips dug into the boat. Closing his eyes, Anton took a few deep breaths and twirled his hand toward the star-filled sky. “It’s creepy navigating through all these massive chunks of ice. With the pale light, those cliff-faces look like giant gravestones.”
Norman turned off the engine and pulled a slender stick from the console. With a crack, a sickly green illumination leapt from the tube, chasing away the darkness. With a series of quick motions, Norman cracked another rod and tossed it on the approaching dock. Norman sauntered to the bow and twisted a section of rope off the cleat. When the vessel crept alongside the small metal wharf, Norman hopped on, securing his craft. “Privacy, is as precious as gold in most cases.”
Anton rubbed his upper arms as his eyes fluttered around the cavern. “I’d figure your location would ensure that. Why didn’t we make this trip during the day?”
Norman cracked another light, intensifying the sickly glow. After tossing the plastic tube onto the deck, he sauntered to the spare pile of rope and lashed the boat to the wharf again. “Haven’t you heard of security in depth?”
Anton pulled a steel ramp from a compartment and hooked it against the gunwale. With a shove, it clanked against the dock, while he grabbed the closest barrel and lifted it into position on the smooth metal. “I can’t say that term sounds familiar.”
Norman eased the drum upon a small dolly. “It is a succinct way of saying you don’t rely on a single form of security. The isolation helps, but when it’s paired with the timing, I ensure my privacy. Remove the other one off my boat.”
Anton dropped the cask onto the steel. “I’m not lazy.” With a sigh, Anton escorted the last barrel down the ramp. “Is that the only cart you have?”
“Leave it there and get the door.” Norman said as the eerie light reflected off his teeth.
Anton chewed his lip as he stomped past Norman and yanked it open. Instantly, a chorus of moans, howls, and wails erupted from the opening. “What’s happening in there?”
Norman stepped up, gripping Anton’s shoulder. “That is the secret of my process.”
“You explained nothing.”
Norman swatted Anton’s back and tipped the drum into the void. While the barrel tumbled, Norman grabbed the wheeled cart as a crack silenced the cacophony. He rushed to the other cask and slipped the dolly under it. With a smile, he returned and shoved the second container into the darkness.
As a crash erupted, Anton swallowed a lump in his throat. “What was the cargo?”
With a toothy grin, Norman pulled another stick from his pocket and broke the inner vial. As it tumbled from Norman’s fingers, the green light highlighted the scene below. Anton crept to the edge, discovering a mass of shambling creatures wading through empty barrels heading toward the viscous liquid draining from the fresh ones. While they cupped the fluid to their mouths, Anton inched away. “What are they?”
Norman pressed his palm onto Anton’s back. “They clean the byproducts of my factories, and they work cheaply.”
Anton licked his lips while he studied the creatures pouring the noxious waste down their throats. “How do you pay them?”
“Food,” Norman said as he shoved his assistant.
However, Anton’s hand flew to the doorframe, and he dove under Norman’s arm, rolling behind the lunatic. “You feed them people?”
Maniacal laughter mixed with clangs and thumps, while Norman turned around. “Think about it. Those monsters clean all the waste I bring them, and it only costs me the life of a transient. It’s a fantastic deal once you consider everything.”
“You’re a monster!”
As more clanks rang out from the pit, Norman’s wicked laughter intensified. “Nonsense, I’m a businessman.”
With a glance over his shoulder, Anton inched away from the maniac and his pet creatures. “The authorities are going to catch you!”
“There’s a reason I hire people like you.” Norman lifted a ring of keys, jingling them. “Besides, you cannot start the boat without these.”
Misshapen hands reached out of the void, snatching Norman’s ankle, and yanked him into the darkness. As cries of pain roared from the mysterious depths, Anton rushed to the opening, slamming the door. He spun around and slid down the cold steel. With a groan, Anton rubbed his face and bounced his head against the metal. As he climbed to his feet, Anton noticed something glittering on the ground. He lifted the jingling keys and smiled as he rushed to Norman’s boat.
]]>Come, sit down and allow me to give you a mini-escape and kindle your imagination.
“We should go.”
Michael punched the earth as he shoved his hand further down the hole. “Sal, I can’t leave without retrieving my wallet.”
Owooooo!
Sal tugged on his friend’s shoulder as he whipped his head about. “Michael, you can cancel all your cards and you don’t carry cash.”
Michael swatted Sal’s fingers as he pushed his arm further into the gap.
Owooooo!
“Come on, Michael, we have to go.” Sal tightened his grip on Michael’s ankle and swallowed a lump as his gaze drifted between the trees and their looming shadows.
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The other day I spoke with someone about the merits of imagination. Nothing captures that power like teasing an image from a chaotic blob. That is the reason I constantly reach to the liquification tool throughout my digital art platforms. Sea Monster 001 is a perfect example of imposing my will on an unorganized mass of lines. With the careful application of shading and highlighting, I transferred the creature from my imagination to the digital world. Once secured, I turned my attention to my monster’s surroundings.
Seeping Blue Magic is yet another example of how to tease order from chaos. There isn’t a single source of inspiration for this image, because I’ve run into multiple examples of magic coalescing into a liquid. However, once I crafted the magic oozing out, I needed to drop it onto a cracked surface. With a bit of work, I created the marble surface and texture.
Hunker down in your chair and enjoy the artwork below. As always, if you want a better look click a picture to head over to my DeviantArt gallery and consider buying a print.
]]>Jarvis shoved a tablet across the table, and it slid to a stop in front of the dwarf’s hand. “Ferrek, while we’re fresh visitors to this world, those logs suggest our ancestors were allied against the unending flood of monsters.”
“I’m aware of the old tales.” Ferrek’s nose scrunched as his beefy fingertip poked the device. “What’s this?”
Closing his eyes, Jarvis folded his hands, pressing them against his forehead. “That’s something I’ll explain later. For now, we can focus on more demanding concerns.”
Ferrek lifted the pad, flipping it back and forth. With a shrug, the burly dwarf dropped the tablet to the desk and leaned into his seat. Laughter filled the small room as he pulled his weapon off the floor and a stone from his pack. He spat on the stone and placed it beside the device. “And what is it you’re hoping to gain from this conversation?”
“I’m looking to rekindle the relationship between our people.”
The heavy blade thudded against the wet stone, and Ferrek guided its edge along the rock. When it cleared, he flipped the ax, drawing the other side down the stone. Silently, the dwarf fell into a silent rhythm as he repeated those simple motions. “Your ancestor, Tarian, insulted our leader’s honor. My people do not easily forget those kinds of offenses.” Ferrek pulled the ax off the stone and ran his thumb across the edge. His lips curled into a smile as he laid the weapon across the table. “Fortunately, for you, time has altered our leadership, and our current king isn’t as attached to the lore.”
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To continue reading the story, click here to head over to Wattpad.
So when I this week’s prompt dropped into my lap, I instantly knew the rough outline of the story. =
Come, sit down and allow me to give you a mini-escape and kindle your imagination.
Snow drifted past the window as Lucas gripped his steaming mug under his nose. He took a deep breath and knocked against the pane of glass. “I know you like snowy landscapes, but I don’t understand how you love this weather?”
Alicia threw her hips against his and guided his cup to her mouth.
“Absolutely not, this is my coco.”
She licked her lips and pointed through the window. “There’s something enchanting with snow clinging to the world, whitewashing everything.”
With a shrug, Lucas wrapped his fingers around the mug and sipped the steaming drink. “What’s magical about being trapped inside?”
“What are you talking about?”
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Fortunately, the results reminded me that the second entry in the challenge was this weekend, so I put everything else on hold and dove into the competition. However, once I finished threw myself into everything else that I missed, including rounding up all the artwork I posted to my DeviantArt galleries, including the first cartoon for Harrison (an exclusive for my patrons and watchers).
Hunker down in your chair and enjoy the artwork below. As always, if you want a better look click a picture to head over to my DeviantArt gallery and consider buying a print.
]]>“When’s the train supposed to arrive?”
Marcus slung a strap across his shoulder while his smile widened. He wrapped an arm around Talia’s shoulders and pointed at the empty tracks. “It shouldn’t be that much longer. Are you excited to go home?”
Talia closed her eyes and grinned. “I can’t wait to get back to the farm and the children.”
Marcus laid his forehead against hers. “Do you believe Wayne has the charisma to manipulate and placate the fools that Kethra left behind?”
Talia rested her head on her husband’s shoulder and drew in a deep breath. “I wouldn’t have recommended the boy if I wasn’t sure of his accomplishments.”
“I was not questioning our former farmhand’s skills.” Marcus released his wife and led her to the bench, easing her down. He rubbed his mouth, studying the empty platform. With a shudder, he dropped to his knees and collected her hands. “I’m going to miss his help around the farm.”
“The people who tried seizing control of the region are dangerous.” Talia massaged her neck as her gaze drifted towards the white clouds hanging over their heads. Her fingers grabbed her hair, splitting them into three strands. As she began braiding, she closed her eyes. “Thankfully, Vincent and his soldiers are here to keep them in line.”
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To continue reading the story, click here to head over to Wattpad.
As we sat around the firepit, the flames consumed each log we added to the fire, we’d talk about anything and everything. There’s something therapeutic about watching the blaze consume the firewood. Unfortunately, all good things come to a close, and before we shuffled off to our tents, we would extinguish the flames. Despite dousing the fires in the wee hours of the night, it always took me a while to pass out.
While I’ve teased Ramas’s abilities from the initial tale, this story gave me the perfect opportunity to provide more information about his abilities.
Come, sit down and allow me to give you a mini-escape and kindle your imagination.
Hagar rubbed his thighs as he focused upon Ramas’ scarred eyes. “There’s been a question on my lips ever since you recruited me.”
Ramas scratched an eyebrow as he tapped a beat against his helm. “You’re wondering how I’m able to see, despite the obvious scars?”
The messenger nodded as he tugged his collar and inched to the edge of his log. “Your eyesight is a mystery.”
A scrap of wood rose from the fire, tumbling as if it dangled by a string.
“Can you please tell me your secret?”
Bitter laughter washed over Hagar as the burning ember danced over the flames. “Like the rest of my kind, we traded conventional vision for sight of the unseen.”
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Despite both of them starting off as liquified lines, they quickly transformed into fantastic landscapes. For Mountain King, when the original shapes transformed into a rampaging monster, I instantly recognized that it belonged on a mountaintop. As I examined the creature, it reminded me of a child who won a round of King of the Hill. With that revelation, the rest of the image flowed out of my stylus, including the rising sun centering on the triumphant monster.
My other landscape doodle turned into a tree back lit by a setting sun. Unfortunately, Tree Sunset 001 didn’t have such a straightforward path to completion. Its transition from a collection of lines into a gnarled tree was as twisted as its trunk. Despite the ease of liquefying the lines, it took me multiple attempts to reveal the purpose of the creation. When I finished creating the canopy, the rest of the picture came into focus. However, I required the perfect backdrop for this tree, and after a couple of tries, I stumbled into the colorful sky below. Thankfully, it makes the tree pop and sooths my active mind.
Hunker down in your chair and enjoy the artwork below. As always, if you want a better look click a picture to head over to my DeviantArt gallery and consider buying a print.
]]>With a groan, Jasmine leaned against the doorframe as she dragged her fingertips down her face.
“You’ve long since paid your debt to me, Jasmine.” Issac shook his head as he raised his cup to his lips. After taking a slow pull, he spun toward the doorway, tapping his refreshment. His tongue ran across his teeth as he waved the full mug in his co-pilot’s direction. With a snort, he took another sip. “While you come out with me for the occasional drink, you’re not fond of spending your off hours here.”
Jasmin scowled as she folded her arms over her chest. “What does that tell you?”
Harsh laughter filled the small room as Issac spun back to the bar, drinking more of the brew and easing the cup onto the counter. He hopped off the stool and whirled around, clapping his hands. “That begs two questions.”
“What are those?”
He waved his hand while he leaned against the seat. “First, you’re here on Quinn’s behalf.”
Jasmine’s finger tapped against her bicep as she drew her lips into a white line. “What’s the second question?”
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To continue reading the story, click here to head over to Wattpad.
After a quick re-read of the narrative, my mind spun another story, delving into the life of the student who lost the duel, Aiden. When I finished the second story, I stumbled upon another character that demanded to be sketched out. While I’ve explored some of this man’s background, there’s a chunk of his history that can only be unearthed through following his micro-stories.
When I sat down to create my first draft, I leaned into the duel while connecting the two time periods. As I’ve shown with Darren, certain students will get extra lessons when they require it. Unfortunately for Aiden, Imryll won’t allow him the extra lessons without a partner.
Come, sit down and allow me to give you a mini-escape and kindle your imagination.
As the remaining beer tumbled into Daylen’s glass, Aiden sighed, thumping the bottle onto the table. He grabbed his mug and clinked his friend’s. “What do you think?”
Daylen grasped his drink, running a finger along the rim.
“Don’t you have an opinion?”
“You want extra lessons with Imryll?”
Aiden nodded and took a long pull from his glass. “The next time I am dueling with Sebastian, I’d like to avoid future embarrassment.”
“That’s a laudable goal.” Daylen eased his mug to the table and rubbed his mouth. He laid his palm onto the top of the drink and shook his head. “However, I’m not sure why you need me to join you. I already have enough work.”
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Every piece of artwork I create has a story, and Underwater Shell is no different. The last time I brought my dad to the hospital, when I wasn’t working on Seeking Justice, I worked on some artwork. Thankfully, Infinite Painter works wonderfully on my phone. Pair the fantastic interface with a wonderful stylus. I threw some lines onto the digital canvas. Once the initial strokes were on the screen, I opened the liquify tool and shaped the markings into a shell like silhouette. By the time the hospital admitted my dad, I partially submerged the shell in a river.
Unlike Underwater Shell, Spinning Top was an image I created to measure my skills. When I finished working on this image, I leaned back and studied the completed picture. While there are some issues with the top, I’m happy with how the table and grass came out.
Hunker down in your chair and enjoy the artwork below. As always, if you want a better look click a picture to head over to my DeviantArt gallery and consider buying a print.
]]>As the rest of the students rushed to leave, Darren closed his book and shoved it into his pack. When the door swung shut, chasing the last student, Darren rose, slinging the pack’s strap over his shoulder. He ran his fingers through his hair while inching closer to Arlen’s desk. “When’s the next private class?”
“Wouldn’t you rather take a break and relax?”
Darren shook his head, tightening his grasp around his pack’s sling.
The lithe teacher grinned and pulled something out of a drawer, hiding it in her palm. “Are you sure? You’re quite the skilled healer.”
“I don’t want to stop until I’ve learned everything you can teach me.”
Laughter bubbled out of Arlen’s lips as she tossed the trinket over her head. The metal caught the light as it twirled. When the thing reached the apex of its journey, Arlen plucked the object out of the air. Arlen’s fingers stroked her chin as her smile warmed. “There are aspects of this life that still elude you, Darren.”
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To continue reading the story, click here to head over to Wattpad.
“Mara, you’re late.”
The lithe woman leaned against the frame as her fingers ran through her hair. She twisted her head and peered past the living mountain to smile at the pilots waiting. With a snort, Mara’s gaze drifted back to Darvin as she thumped his chest. “Please explain why you yanked your best pilots out of rotation?”
“Why are cocky pilots constantly wasting my time?” The massive individual stepped aside, raising an arm to point at the open seat. “However, you’ve also wasted theirs, and I don’t think that’s fair.”
“Stop complaining, Darvin,” the woman sitting in the room said as she crossed her ankles. “Your bluster is hollow.”
“Giselle is correct.” The remaining pilot said, punctuating his words by slapping the empty chair. He raised his finger, thrusting it toward Mara. “I won’t speak for Mara or Giselle,” With a shrug, the heavy-set individual clutched his hands behind his head. “However, I would like to know why Darvin arranged for this meeting.”
“I couldn’t agree more, Arthur,” Darvin said, taking Mara’s arm and guiding her to the open seat. With a grin, the mountain deposited her and plucked three pads off the desk. “I’d be shocked to learn that any of you are happy with running cargo and passengers to the colonies.”
Arthur’s lips curled into a sly smile. “Aren’t you tired of performing errands for the elite?”
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To continue reading the story, click here to head over to Wattpad.
Thankfully, during the initial stages of creating this tale, the bones of the story flew through my fingers. Once I built the story’s skeleton, the meat of the investigation developed. Despite how easily the story flowed, there was a fair amount of work required to finish the story, tumbling about in my mind. When I completed the last draft, I grinned as I realized how much simpler this format was for writing a mystery.
Sit down with your popcorn and watch as Kyle closes another case.
Gregory Bridger, an aide for a powerful councillor, died under mysterious conditions. And his family hired Mr. Rickman to find the truth…
“Sir, you can’t interrupt them!”
Kyle glanced over his shoulder, smirking at the host. He turned the doorknob and threw the door open. “It’s okay, there’s a killer to find in here. Don’t worry, I’ll be sure to apologize for the inconvenience.”
“Sir…”
Kyle scurried to the solitary table in the room. He rubbed his hands as his gaze swept across the people sitting there. “Good evening, everyone. At the insistence of the restaurant’s staff, I’m sorry for disturbing your meal, Jessica, but I am afraid we have a lot to discuss.”
When the host opened the door, the woman in the middle of the table cradled her chin in her fingers and clicked her tongue. “Sebastian, it’s alright. Mr. Rickman is welcome here.”
With a nod, the man backed out of the room. “Yes, mam, I’ll send David in shortly.”
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Once more, I’m delving into the world of comedy. However, my mind still needs the occasional helpful nudge to get going. So I pulled up another collection of Micro Fiction prompts and pulled a random comedy one and groaned. Thankfully, my mind instantly jumped into a romantic situation. My mind churned out an initial overview of Allen taking Melissa on a first date. Unfortunately for our young couple, they have drastically different ideas for a first date.
Come, sit down and allow me to give you a mini-escape and kindle your imagination.
“Allen, drop the pretense and tell me where we’re heading for dinner.”
His gaze flicked to his date as the car stopped while his mouth curled into a smile. Allen turned, collecting her hand, and kissed her fingers. “Melissa, relax. I am taking you to my favorite place to eat.”
With a broad grin, Melissa freed her hand and launched into an array of applause. “That sounds excellent.” Melissa glanced down at her clothing and chewed her lip. “Though now I’m concerned that we might be underdressed.”
When the light turned green, Allen’s foot shifted to the gas pedal. The car’s engine revved as it shot across the intersection. “Nah, in fact we’re too formal.”
Melissa’s fingers gripped the cloth of her dress as she shook her head.
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Recently, I’ve been exploring Ramas Caldwell in my artwork and my Micro Fiction. Every image I make with him and the story I tell brings me one step closer to a better understanding of this mysterious character. Despite everyone’s past influencing their future, Ramas’s history hangs a little tighter around his neck. His scarred eyes are the ultimate reason for his inability to escape his looming future. Even though I’ve only created images with his helmet, I’m eventually going to draw him without it and explain how a blind man can see.
Technology is an amazing thing. I remember my very first cell phone; it was a stick phone that could make calls. There was no texting or surfing the web or apps to install. It was a simple tool that allowed me to talk with family while I was in college, provided I didn’t go over my minutes. Thankfully, tech improves every day. Today, certain people do marvelous things with their cell phones, including letting a budding artist like me to draw when I’m nowhere near my tablet or computer. Leaping Creature is one of those pictures that I drew on my mobile device, using Infinite Painter. I threw some broad strokes and then started using the liquify tool and ended up with an interesting monster. After I created a couple of brushes, I placed my creation in a forest, capturing him as he goes to catch something from a friend.
Whenever I use the liquify tool, I never know what I’m going to create. Sometimes it’s nothing but an unmitigated mess, but occasionally I wind up with the perfect seed to an amazing image. Tri-Leaf is one of those instances. While I don’t remember what the original lines looked like, when I finished, a beautiful plant’s silhouette stared back at me. The moment I completed, I started coaxing the plant’s anatomy from the blackness, letting it take shape. With the plant complete, I placed it on a grassy hill with a mountain range in the distance to balance out its fragility.
Hunker down in your chair and enjoy the artwork below. As always, if you want a better look click a picture to head over to my DeviantArt gallery and consider buying a print.
]]>Those initial two hundred and fifty words left me with a character that I yearned to explore, so I continued writing mini-exploits. Yet despite the enjoyment from writing these micro tales, I yearned to give Lucas a bigger stage to explore his past. After sketching out a rough history for him, I focused on when his mentor gave him permission to create his initial home for a shade. Despite this story’s initial block, I could coax it out of the depths of my mind.
Sit down with your popcorn and witness Lucas’s journey in creating his tattoos.
While Lucas finishes creating the specialized ink to anchor shades for his mentor, Rosa, he wonders when she will allow him to start…
Lucas glanced over his shoulder and studied his mentor. As a sigh rushed out, Lucas ran his hand through his hair, muttering, “I can’t wait until she lets me capture my first shade.”
“Is everything okay, Lucas?”
“I’m fine.” Lucas picked up a small glass vial and tipped it over his cauldron, allowing the thick and dark substance to drip from the bottle. Lucas rubbed his neck and twisted it to crack some of the stiff joints. When the fifth drop of the viscous fluid tumbled out of the container, Lucas returned the stopper and placed the crystal tube beside the rest.
Rosa stepped up behind Lucas and squeezed the man’s shoulder. “Don’t forget, at this stage the slightest thing could ruin the entire pot.”
“Do you have to hover over me every moment?” Lucas raised a spoon and eased it into the bubbling liquid. With a handful of strokes, Lucas worked the special ingredient into the mixture. “This isn’t the first batch of this ink that I’ve made for you.”
“There is a difference between knowing how to accomplish something and the ability to achieve the act.” She lifted a small vial beside the cauldron and whacked it against Lucas’s nose. “How many drops did you use?”
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Aside from drawing Ramas in another pose, I did a detailed rendition of his staff. The creation of his staff has a story behind it, and it’s another that I’m eager to share with everyone. Unfortunately, there’s a vast collection of tales tumbling about my mind, and a severe lack of time to record them.
While I want everyone to enjoy these pieces, I’ve restricted them to my watchers at DeviantArt and my patrons. Please consider choosing one of these paths to enjoy Ramas Caldwell and his gear. Out of the remaining pieces of art, I’m very pleased with Liquid Metal and Blue Planet.
Hunker down in your chair and enjoy the artwork below. As always, if you want a better look click a picture to head over to my DeviantArt gallery and consider buying a print.
]]>Fortunately, whenever my mind refuses to work, I pull out some of my favorite books and thumb through them. Whenever I treat myself to these rare moments, I always jump to my favorite scenes and relieve the moments. This time when I cracked open a fascinating, yet unfinished, series, I stumbled upon an interesting scene I’d forgotten about. This young man enjoys wrapping his reputation about his shoulders like a snug cloak. And in this scene, we see him doing just that.
On its face, that’s an attitude that I want for Daniel Shaw, the captain of the Scythe. However, I don’t want to shoehorn my smuggler into this other author’s character. Follow the link below and buy me a croissant to enjoy this micro-tale.
Come, sit down and allow me to give you a mini-escape and kindle your imagination.
“Should I believe every rumor that’s attributed to your crew?”
Daniel lifted his mug, sniffing the pale liquid. His tongue ran across his lips as he dropped a tiny device into the cup. While his mouth curled, Daniel swirled the drink. “Rachel, are you interested in hearing random rumors?”
The lithe woman’s head bobbed as she gripped the glass’s stem.
Saul leaned over, flicking Daniel’s glass. “For starters, people say your skills are rivaled by your paranoia.”
“We can’t take pride in our accomplishments if we’re dead.” Rachel said as she draped her arm around Daniel.
Daniel’s fist flew to his mouth, smothering a burst of laughter. “We are highly selective when deciding to accept jobs. One sure way to chase us away is withholding any detail.”
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A small team of defenders grabbed rough ropes, marching away from the wall. With each step, the guards dragged the heavy boulder across the ground, creating an exit in the settlement’s barrier. When the slab struck the reinforced section, Fenton waved his squadron forward. As the last member walked through the opening, Fenton took a deep breath and signaled another squad to close the gap. With a groan, the massive stone screeched as the rock slid into place, while Fenton stepped through the shrinking portal.
He rested the stock of his rifle on the ground as his gaze drifted amongst the members of his unit. Once he finished the tally, he lifted his weapon to his shoulder and rubbed his chin. “Does everyone understand what Jarvis tasked us to do?”
Alek raised a finger and pitched his voice. “We’re searching for food, fuel, and friends, and not necessarily in that order.”
Fenton stepped beside the flippant man and swatted the back of Alek’s head. “Despite our friend’s attitude, he’s not wrong.” Fenton pointed at the tree line and licked his lips. “Keep your eyes peeled for anything that might prove useful or dangerous.”
When the radio attached to Fenton’s hips chirped, he groaned and pulled it off his belt. “What can I do for you Jarvis?”
“Has your team entered the forest yet?”
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To continue reading the story, click here to head over to Wattpad.
With each story I write, I’m amazed at how drastically stories alter from the initial outline and draft. This narrative was no exception. As the tale’s conclusion flowed through my fingers, I stared at the text on the screen and knew the next iteration would be radically different. But since it was late and sleep tugged me into its embrace, I walked away from my computer, allowing it to claim me. Upon waking up, the second draft flew from my fingers, and I was happy with the updated direction of the tale.
Sit down and get your popcorn ready and witness Joyce’s search for her initial case.
Fresh out of law school, Joyce returns to her hometown to establish a new practice. She heads to the sheriff’s office to find a client…
Click.
“Brent, whoever you’re locking up is entitled to legal representation.”
“Joyce, take the job in the city.”
“I made it, Brent, and the plan has always been to help my hometown.”
The heavy-set man leaned his forehead against the cell’s door and harrumphed. Brent craned his head as he chewed his lip, bouncing his knuckles against the cold steel. “Joyce, isn’t chasing my deputies beneath you?”
“Whoever you shoved in there has the right to an attorney.”
The sheriff’s fist stopped midway to the wall. As it hovered alongside the metal, he drew a deep breath through his clenched teeth. With a shake of his head, Brent gripped the lawyer’s shoulders and spun her around. Pointing toward the other end of the hall, the sheriff gave her a gentle shove. “I’m aware of his rights, but old Clay drank too much, he’s not under arrest.”
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When I sit back and examine my collection of stories and their characters, I’m amazed at how grand some of them are, considering the origins of most of them. I conceived Harrison and Sylvia from a character I created in Torchlight. And conversely I created Darren Gilbert because I needed to fit a fantasy in a shoe store while featuring a pancake. And then when I stop to think about Ramas Caldwell, I can’t remember what sparked his creation. Despite that hole in my mind, he was eager, like all of my characters, to step out of his story.
Hunker down in your chair and enjoy the artwork below. As always, if you want a better look click a picture to head over to my DeviantArt gallery and consider buying a print.
]]>Earlier this month when I selected this prompt, marrying it with Lucas’s story seemed like a straightforward choice, considering his previous tale, Creature. While Ricky can generate some fun situations for Lucas to overcome, I wanted something more substantial with this micro-narrative. Fortunately, my mind flew into overdrive, connecting multiple pieces of Lucas’s character. Reaching back to Lucas’s initial story Tattooed Home, since he’s capable of creating permanent homes for ghosts via his tattoos, he doesn’t want the world to know. And that was all I needed to develop this brief escapade.
This time, Lucas brings an old friend to a nearby river to skip stones. Come, sit down and allow me to give you a mini-escape and kindle your imagination.
Lucas plucked a stack of rocks from the table, tossing the smallest into the air. When it landed in his palm, he rose and shoved his thumb over his shoulder at the calm stream behind him. “Alicia, have you ever skipped stones?”
With a smirk, she snatched the remaining pile. “It’s not an activity that comes around often.”
Lucas stepped away from the table and bowed, gesturing at the winding river. “It is a soothing experience, wouldn’t you agree?”
Alicia sauntered toward the shore and flung one of her rocks. It hung over the surface briefly before bouncing off the tranquil stream, hopping over a patch of water. After two additional skips, the rock plummeted into the depths. She whirled around, lifting three fingers. “That was a decent toss.”
“You did well.”
Alicia batted her eyes and licked her lips. “Can you match my throw?”
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“Talia would be a suitable replacement to Kethra.”
While his tongue ran across his lips, Marcus slammed his hand onto his desk like a hammer. With a huff, he tore his gaze away from Roxanne and pointed at the man sitting to his right. “Wayne has been trained by my wife.”
“The boy might have received a competent education. Unfortunately, he isn’t Talia,” Gordon said.
“You’re not wrong,” Talia said as she gripped Marcus’s neck. “But he’s learned everything that I know.” Talia released her husband and squeezed her farmhand’s shoulder. “In fact, whenever I’ve needed to leave our cattle, I have never worried about the animals.”
“If that’s true, why are you letting him go?”
Marcus banged his desk with his knuckles and leaned forward. “Roxanne, we have multiple farmhands, who we’ve trained for situations just like this.”
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To continue reading the story, click here to head over to Wattpad.
While these fantasy soldiers had their fear engineered from their psyche, fear is an intrinsic aspect of our lives. Whenever I hear stories about war, a common thread is how each side attempt to frighten the other. Ultimately, they’re trying to break the will of their opponents. That singular moment of clarity crystalized Ramas’s story.
After scarring Emilie’s army out of fighting, she forced her troops to turn around and march into battle. With the enemy approaching their territory, Nilus takes a step away from his research to design a plan to break Emilie’s forces. While Ramas and Nilus share the same powers, Ramas is unwilling to embrace the darker aspects. So Nilus orders him to wait for the initial skirmish to finish before joining the battle.
Come, sit down and allow me to give you a mini-escape and kindle your imagination.
As Hagar’s feet propelled him across the muddy ground, Ramas rested his head against a tree. When his messenger’s foot slammed into a puddle, Ramas lifted his hand. “What’s taking place on the other side of the hill?”
Hagar licked his lips as he halted. The water lapped against his leather boots while his gaze flicked over his shoulder.
“Stop procrastinating and tell me what is happening on the battlefield.”
The herald wrung his hands as he cleared his throat. “Nilus decimated the enemy.”
Ramas ran his hand through his damp hair and patted his helmet. While his white and scarred eyes drifted to his messenger, Ramas climbed to his feet. “His success was never in question. In the heat of battle, he’s far too ruthless for Emilie’s pawns.” Ramas marched to his envoy, striking the man’s chest. “How many survived?”
Hagar tugged his collar and inched away.
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The internet is chock full of useful techniques for a variety of things, especially digital art. Thankfully, I’ve discovered a few of these and have made them my own. When I sat down to work on Twisted Fibers 07, I was eager to create the image. With each step of the process, the ultimate result emerged from the canvas. As I applied the final touches, the mingling shades of blue highlighted the nucleolus of the image.
Shrooms started off as a collection of lines. After swirling them about, I realized I was looking at a mushroom. Although I don’t enjoy eating them, the large shroom looked like it would be fun to turn into a piece of art. Before I started giving the fungus its definition, I duplicated it a few times and rescaled them to create a collection to give definition to them. With a scattering of mushrooms in place, I applied layer after layer to build out the definition and placed them in a forest.
As I push myself to become a better artist, I’m constantly trying to improve my skill at drawing characters. With that goal in mind, it’s best to focus on body parts rather than an entire person. Recently, I’ve focused on hands. After sketching out the hand for Magic Flare, I started creating another ball of magic. Once the doodle was finished, I started adding paint to the image, to give the illusion of depth to the hand.
Hunker down in your chair and enjoy the artwork below. As always, if you want a better look click a picture to head over to my DeviantArt gallery and consider buying a print.
]]>So, when it came time to sketch out my latest Political Satire, I opened my writing journal and dove into the history of Fortunes’ world. While I possessed the political topic to lean into, I needed a plot to carry the message. Once more I turned to NYC Midnight for inspiration. After selecting a random prompt, I needed to figure out how to drop a bicycle shop into a science fiction tale. With the structure in place, I started drafting potential storylines. Once I found the basics of the story, I raced to finish the tale for my patrons.
Sit down and get your popcorn ready to witness a couple enter a bicycle store.
In an era where people can travel across their country with ease, join Alison and Michael as they explore an old-fashioned bicycle shop…
Ding!
The individual sitting behind the counter glanced up from his work and smiled broadly as a couple entered his establishment. The owner stretched out one arm while the other slipped under the workstation. As the owner’s grin slowly spread across his face, the man inclined his head. “Welcome to my store. How can I assist you?”
The young woman clutched her companion’s wrist, dragged him through the doorway and pointed at the collection of bike pieces. She stormed into the shop and hovered over the parts. “Given how inexpensive travel is, it’s hard to imagine you get many customers.”
“You’re not wrong.” The owner withdrew his hand from under the counter. He leaned over the bits strewn atop the table and grinned. “However, enough people enjoy biking that I’ve managed a pretty good life.”
“Really?!” The woman spun around as her mouth fell. She inched away from the collection of parts while her finger stretched toward the bicycles dangling from the rafters. “How much do you charge for one of these contraptions?”
The proprietor slid off his stool and sauntered out from behind the counter, pulling a catalog from its holder. He rolled the pamphlet and gestured at the hanging bikes. “Wherever you encounter specialization, there’s a greater cost.”
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With my protagonist firmly entrenched, I leaned on NYC Midnight to find a prompt for Samuel’s latest journey. However, at first, I didn’t know how I’d slot my criminal hunter into a story around a fishing hole. After a brainstorming session, where I tossed multiple thoughts on the wall like spaghetti, I waited to see which ones would stick. As the thoughts slid down the wall, I plucked the clinging storyline and crafted a low-impact story where our intrepid collector of criminals takes a break in search of a meal.
Sit down with your own meal as Samuel guides his dragon in search of some fish.
As Pearl carries Samuel over a forest, the dragon rider grabs his stomach as he points out a lake. Will Samuel find fish for them to eat…
Samuel gripped his stomach as he pressed his forearm against Pearl’s neck. The dragon slid toward the earth as Samuel’s grip tightened around his belly. He licked his lips when a lake came into view. “Those calm waters should be full of plump fish.”
Samuel patted her haunches and pointed at an empty stretch of the shoreline. Her wings pulled into her side, and they dove towards the water. At the last second, Pearl’s wings opened, catching the air, which drastically slowed their decent. When they reached the shore, Pearl dropped to the ground and curled up.
Samuel unhooked his pack and rifle and slid down his dragon’s back. He landed on his feet and started dusting off his legs. “How about it, girl, would you like something to eat?”
Closing her eyes, Pearl bobbed her head and shoved her snout under her coiled body.
With a chuckle, Samuel rubbed her hide and looked over the lake. “Of course, you want fish, but you’re not about to help, are you?”
Pearl’s shoulders rolled while she thrust her maw further under her chest.
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But with the limited word count, and the constraint, I separated Samuel from his dragon. While most of his stories take place in the Wild West, I pulled him back to the east coast so he could visit one of his contacts, who provide him with specialized magical gear. Unfortunately, the word count prevents me from truly introducing this artificer. Thankfully, I’m able to drop the man’s name for later use.
Come, sit down and allow me to give you a mini-escape and kindle your imagination.
The small crystal twirled about Samuel’s knuckles as he stalked down the snow-covered streets of New York. When he came to an intersection, Samuel lifted the gemstone. As the sunlight bathed the intricate surfaces, his lips curled into a grin.
“What’s that?”
Samuel shoved the trinket into his coat pocket and spun, latching onto the stranger. He tapped the tip of his nose and cocked his head. “It is something I need for my job.” Samuel wrapped his fingers around his chin and stepped back from the mysterious individual. “Who are you?”
“A student of the mystic arts, and that pretty object caught my attention.”
“I’m sorry but it’s not for sale.” As his lips pulled to a line, Samuel pointed down the sidewalk. “Go find Elias Ildacer, he’s a master artificer. He can craft whatever you might require.”
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As I liquified the lines for Earthen Home, the resulting blob took on the appearance of a tent. While the concept intrigued me, I didn’t want to paint a tent. As I continued to nudge it into its ultimate form, I thought back to all the stories I’ve ever heard about people who built their homes into a cliff, or the earth. Instantly, my stylus started surrounding my little home with earth and grass. Despite anchoring the home into a section of earth, it was missing something, so I added some light from the entrance and smoke from the earthen chimney. All the details completed this wonderful home.
Sometimes when I liquify lines, I know exactly what I’m creating before adding color. However, when I created Wolf & Snake, the image didn’t come into focus until I applied the gradient. The initial selection of colors needed to be tweaked. But once I saw my abstract animals, every subsequent layer helped craft the picture of a wolf staring off against a snake at night.
The last image I want to highlight is Weapon Table. While these weapons were created through liquifying several lines, I used shadows and highlights to turn these two-dimensional drawings into three-dimensional objects. Once the rough shapes were crafted, I created a couple of Infinite Painter brushes to add some definition to the wood grain. To complete the setting, I created a woodgrain layer underneath the weapons, catching the shadows.
Hunker down in your chair and enjoy the artwork below. As always, if you want a better look click a picture to head over to my DeviantArt gallery and consider buying a print.
]]>When I selected the prompt for my Action/Adventure, it didn’t take long to connect the action of evading the police with this unnamed character. Beyond keeping him one step in front of the cops, I wanted to highlight some benefits of his war against the supernatural. But before revealing that perk, I needed to come up with an interesting situation for my protagonist to survive. Thankfully, it didn’t take long for me to blend those two into the crux of this mini-escapade.
Come, sit down and allow me to give you a mini-escape and kindle your imagination.
Solomon slammed the door shut and held his ear against the cold metal.
Click.
Solomon’s hands flew up while the rest of his extremities froze. “I’m armed but this isn’t what you’re thinking.”
A barrel bore into Solomon’s cheek as hot air blew across his neck. “Strangers barging into our home don’t have the best odds of survival.”
Slowly, Solomon interlaced his fingers and rested them against his head. “I am trying to hide until the police abandon their search.” Solomon’s eyes focused on the barrel as he licked his lips and banged his head against the door. “If you remove your pistol, I’ll leave, and we can pretend I was never here.”
Another barrel dug into Solomon’s back as the warm breaths intensified. “Do you think we’re fools?”
As the pistol vanished from view, a finger flicked Solomon’s forehead. “Why are the police looking for you?”
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Out of everything I posted to my DeviantArt galleries, last week, two of them stand out. The first is Traveler. This image is another example of my liquified line art. I don’t remember the original shapes that I twirled and blended together, but I remember duplicating the shape a few times to arrange the character’s head. As I positioned the individual pieces, I pulled upon multiple sources to capture my angler’s headshot.
The other image I’d going to highlight is Tattered Flag, another creation derived from liquifying lines. Once I stretched out the gear shape, I ended up with an even stranger bit on my digital canvas. After applying color to my flat, yet interesting shape, I shaped the object with shadows and highlights until it took on the appearance of a tattered flag. Not satisfied with the completed flag, I dropped it into a body of water with some air bubbles rushing to the surface to complete the image.
Hunker down in your chair and enjoy the artwork below. As always, if you want a better look click a picture to head over to my DeviantArt gallery and consider buying a print.
]]>But in the meantime, I’m dedicated to bringing my Patrons, their exclusive Flash Fiction content for the month. And the first genre I tackled was a Ghost Story. Halfway through my original draft, I stopped and scrutinized where the story started and where it was heading. The sudden realization forced me to pivot and scrapped the existing narrative. When I finished re-writing my initial draft, I wasn’t completely pleased with the overall tale. Thankfully, the point of every first draft is simply to exist. Ultimately, pieces of that initial pass will stick, but it gets the creative juices flowing. As I edited the document, the harsh storyline softened, and I smiled at the completed narrative.
Sit down and get your popcorn ready as you follow the journey of a pair of ghosts in search of answers.
Following the instructions attached to his palm, our friendly shade enters a home, discovering an unknown face demanding his attention…
The shade positioned his hand beside the numbers affixed to the wall. As his eyes flicked from them to the paper fastened to his palm, he drifted off the ground. The ghost leaned back, rising into the air, and turned to float alongside the home. Once the ghost circled the structure, he whirled around and stared into the clouds hanging in the sky.
“Why am I here!” The shade’s hand twitched as his left knee crumpled. He clenched his fingers and rubbed his wrist, staring at the shifting words. The ghost hopped up and kicked a nearby column.
Understanding follows obedience.
The ghost’s lungs expanded as he shoved his head through the brick wall. When his face broke through the surface, a powerful force propelled the shade into the house. Once inside, the ghost spun toward the wall and collapsed with contorting lips. As his muscles sagged, the ghost examined the updated note.
Milton, stop procrastinating and discover the truth.
The apparition flopped onto his ethereal butt and stared at the painting hanging along the wall. Milton’s head fell as he slid through the air like a duck gliding across the surface of a lake. His fingers stretched out towards the family portrait and traced the mother’s chin.
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The driver’s window lowered, and he popped his head through the opening. “Are you aware of who I’m driving?”
Kyle tapped the packet against his forehead as his lips curled into a grin. “I trust Chase Heath is nestled in there.” He thrust the dossier toward the backside of the limousine. “I have important questions for him.”
“Get out of the way.”
The rear door opened, and a stocky individual leaned against the vehicle. “You heard our driver, step aside.”
Kyle dashed to the opening and yanked on the individual’s arm. As the stranger stumbled, Kyle slipped into the limo, tapping Chase’s knee with the folder. “I know you are a busy fellow, but you’re willing to answer questions, right?”
The stout man gripped Kyle’s collar.
“Before your muscular lackey does something you’ll regret,” Kyle pointed at the window, “If we don’t leave, you’ll fall out of your motorcade. There’s no reason your driver cannot resume his place in the procession, while we have our brief conversation.” He tapped the file as his grin intensified. “Besides, I’m here to ask about Penny Holmes, ejecting me now will destroy your public image.”
The politician shook his head as he released a breath. “Let him go, Eric.”
The security guard tugged Kyle’s collar as he closed his eyes. “Chase, just say the word, and I’ll remove him.”
Chase gripped Eric’s wrist. “Our friendly inspector is correct; I cannot afford to send him away. Release him.” With a sigh, Chase pressed a button, “Get back in line.”
As the vehicle resumed, Kyle smirked at Eric. “Relax and don’t interrupt the adults.” Kyle opened his folder and slid the map off the stack. He snatched a pair of photos and dropped them into Chase’s lap. “I believe you’ve seen these photographs of the crime scene.”
The woman sitting to Chase’s left grabbed the pictures as she sucked on her lower lip. Her eyes bounced between Chase and Kyle as she waved the images over her head. “Why are you investigating her murder?”
“The victim’s parents insisted I explore every aspect of this case, since nobody’s made any progress over the last several months.” Kyle reached over and tapped a section of the picture. “And before you dismiss these as the same photographs the police showed you, I’ve enhanced them.”
“It’s okay, Alyssa.” Chase retrieved the snapshots and studied them. “What am I supposed to find?”
Kyle stared at Chase’s face as he touched an edge of the photo. “I don’t want to influence you, just inspect the pictures and tell me if you notice something that you missed during your earlier examinations.”
Chase twisted the photographs toward Alyssa. “Do you see anything?”
A shudder raced down Alyssa’s spine as her head turned to the window. “There’s nothing different with them.”
Chase rolled his eyes as he showed the prints to the other passenger. “How about you, Erwin? Can you find something that might help our guest?”
While the slender man ran a hand along his tie, he took the pictures and examined them. He swayed and spun the picture toward Kyle, tapping an area above Penny. “I suppose this could be a shadow, but I doubt it’ll help you.”
“Those were taken when the investigation started.” Alyssa ripped the photographs from Erwin’s grasp and threw them at Kyle’s face. “If that’s all the benefit your enhancements offer, then you wasted your time.”
Kyle retrieved the photos off the floor and touched one just under Penny’s outstretched hand. “When you first examined these images, did anybody notice this scrap of paper?”
Alyssa’s shoulders slumped as she dragged her fingertips down her face. “Something that trivial couldn’t help anyone in this investigation.”
“That’s a foolish opinion.” Kyle ran his tongue along his teeth as he laid an ankle across his knee. He wriggled into the seat, placing the folder upon his lap. “You never know what detail will bring everything together to show the truth behind the crime.” He opened the dossier and withdrew the folded map. “Sometimes the guilty party confesses, but other times something as simple as a scrap of paper unlocks those mysteries.”
“Which you don’t have.” She thrust her arms across her chest as her face darkened. “And now we can say this conversation has wasted everyone’s time. The police keep us informed of their investigation, and they never collected such a fragment.”
The investigator flipped the packet, revealing a jagged edge. He leaned forward, running his finger along the tare.
“Don’t fall for his theatrics.” Alyssa tore the map from Kyle’s grip and threw it across the limo. “You cannot suggest that is the source of this phantom scrap of paper.”
“Chase, you have a devoted aid.”
“What are you talking about?”
Kyle pressed his back against his seat as he rifled through the contents of his folder. When he found the correct photograph, Kyle closed the file, clutching it to his chest as he passed the image to Alyssa. “You should have more faith in your boss. He’s a good man.”
The photo fell from Alyssa’s fingers as she threw herself at Erwin.
Eric jumped forward and pulled her off Erwin while Kyle lifted the picture and handed it to Chase. “While the media assumed you were Penny’s fling, it was Erwin.”
With a glance at Alyssa, Erwin lunged for the door.
Unfortunately for the aid, Kyle’s fist was faster, and Erwin crumpled. Kyle jammed the button next to the speaker. “Pull over, it’s time for my departure.” When the vehicle stopped, the investigator climbed out. He gripped Erwin’s collar and dragged the unconscious body from the limo. Kyle secured the murderer and stared into Chase’s eyes. “Make sure Penny receives justice.”
Chase’s lips contorted into a snarl, “Erwin’s not weaseling out of his punishment.”
As Kyle’s palm hit the roof, the limousine pulled away, rejoining the vehicular procession.
]]>After re-reading a story planned as a one-off, I realized it was a perfect starting point for a greater supply of characters to explore. Instantly, my mind churned to work the loser of the previous duel into this Romantic Comedy. As I wondered how to work Aiden into this narrative, my mind crafted what I feel is the prototypical popular girl. After multiple iterations, I ended up with a storyline that emphasized both romantic and comedic traits.
Come, sit down and allow me to give you a mini-escape and kindle your imagination.
“You’re sure, Ramona’s in your room.”
The lithe woman spun, punching Aiden’s stomach. As he doubled over, the halfling stepped forward, cupping her fingers around his chin. “When I left, she was watering her collection of plants.” As she kept her eyes on Aiden, she threw the door open. “Ramona, you have a visitor.”
“Liddia, who’s calling this time?”
With a smirk, Liddia waved and dashed down the corridor.
As the footfalls vanished, Ramona’s head popped through the opening. “Aiden, what can I do for you?”
“I…” Aiden tugged his collar as his eyes frantically danced about. “Would…”
Ramona laid her watering can down and stepped into the hallway, gesturing toward the swinging door. “Were you planning on getting help from Liddia?”
Aiden’s tongue raced across his lips as he nodded.
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Last week, I had two pieces that showcase that search. The first piece to highlight my search is Perched Bird. After liquifying my original shapes, I studied the collection of blobs and started coaxing a bird out of the rough lines. When I finished crafting my purple flyer, I discovered a strange mix of birds. The image possessed hints of a pair of avian blended together. My flyer’s head and beak remind me of a predatory bird, like a small hawk, while the tail reminds me of a Peacock with its plumage pulled tightly over its head. And yes, my creation is clutching a purple branch sprouting from the tree.
The other work I’m pleased to highlight is Spectors. Again, after liquifying the base shape, and applying a gradient, I searched for a universal theme that tied the entire piece together. The first thing I noticed was the shade of a tiny creature waiting for his fellow ghost to finish forming. The rest of the silvery creatures were still forming, like a group coming together to confer about an important topic. As I continued adding more details to the image, its backstory crystalized in my mind. A handful of shades meet in the middle of a forest to discuss their latest trip amongst the living.
Hunker down in your chair and enjoy the artwork below. As always, if you want a better look click a picture to head over to my DeviantArt gallery and consider buying a print.
]]>As I’ve continued to hone my skills, I have constantly had to think about showing instead of telling. Which means I needed to be careful about how I revealed the reputations of Emilie and those cursed with their abilities. If I leaned on a character bursting into a scene, ranting and raving about the evils committed by Emilie, I’d have a terrible piece of Micro Fiction. Relentless provided a sneak peek to Emilie’s reputation with her military. While an important part of her reputation, I needed to highlight how commoners feel about Emilie.
Come, sit down and allow me to give you a mini-escape and kindle your imagination.
The creaking door announced Ramas’s entry into the tavern. As everyone whipped around to stare at the helmet clad intruder, Ramas sauntered to the counter. He removed his helm and face covering, and laid them down, while his milky white eyes lingered upon the trembling owner, “A mug of mead.”
The proprietor nodded as his unsteady fingertips clutched a cup.
“Don’t bother, Jessie.” A hand pulled Ramas away from the bar. “He won’t be drinking it.”
“I’ve done nothing to you or your kin.”
The man leaned forward, baring his teeth. “We won’t meekly accept your rule.”
A long breath rushed from Ramas’s lungs as he dropped to his knees and slammed a fist into the earth.
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Besides Twisted Fibers 04, my weekly collection contains a couple of character studies. No, that’s not entirely accurate, neither were full characters, rather they were specific pieces of anatomy. Opening Vortex and Cradling Fireball have helped push my skills with various parts of my character work. And while I’m happy with these little snapshots, whenever I try bringing them all together, nothing seems quite right. Fortunately, with enough practice I’m closer to bringing my initial character line art to my Patrons and my DeviantArt Watchers.
Hunker down in your chair and enjoy the artwork below. As always, if you want a better look click a picture to head over to my DeviantArt gallery and consider buying a print.
]]>Hell of an ad for the Boy Scouts.
The other collection of scenes that stuck with between viewing was Bishop’s training montage. And like his comment about Tom’s character, Muir delivered some excellent lines. Let me share the three that never faded from my memory:
Technology gets better every day. That’s fine. Most of the time all you need is a stick of gum, a pocket knife and a smile.
Got to see it, assess it and dismiss most of it without looking, without thinking. It’s just like breathing, you breath, don’t you?
Always carry cigarettes and a lighter, too. Great icebreaker.
Since I wanted to leverage this movie, I did a quick google search and as of right now the movie is available for streaming at PeacockTv. Despite the ad breaking up the movie’s flow, it was just as satisfying as the first time I watched it.
Despite having a general idea, I needed something to focus my creativity. So, I plucked a prompt from NYC Midnight and wondered how I would craft a narrative in a funeral procession while allowing an ice cream cake to make an appearance. But as always, the constraints spurred my imagination. For this piece of flash fiction, I focused on Spy Game’s training montage, specifically on the scene where Muir orders Bishop with eliciting information. While I didn’t focus on the recruitment, I leveraged those past interactions as I wrote my first draft. Though during my edits, I realized I was also channeling Get Smart’s cone of silence, though mine actually served its purpose. 😉 Sit down and get comfortable, as I spin my tale of mystery and subterfuge.
During the funeral procession for Robert Helder, a seasoned spy approaches Myriam Frost to collect her latest piece of intelligence…
After placing a pair of plates onto the table, a lean individual gripped the back of a chair and dragged it across the cobblestones. “Have you ever seen such a beautiful sight?”
A shudder ran down the woman’s spine as she twisted her head away from the stranger and pushed the plate aside with a finger. “One of our noble leaders just died. If you’re happy about this funeral march, you can search for company elsewhere.”
The newcomer sat down, taking a bite from his dessert. As he chewed his mouthful, the man grabbed her fork and pressed it into the dense chocolate cake. With a wan smile, he shoved the treat toward her. “Myriam, I believe you are sitting at this ice cream parlor, waiting for me. It’s unfortunate that our meeting coincides with this obnoxious display of power.”
Her head whipped around as her fingertips found her purse. “Tavon, I think this is a bad idea.”
“You shouldn’t be so eager to get rid of people.” Tavon popped a piece of his dessert into his mouth. “Especially when you’re expecting someone.”
Her fingers tugged at her collar while she chewed her tongue. She released her handbag and grabbed the fork resting on the plate. Once she filled it with ice cream and cake, she tapped it against the dish, while her eyes flittered among the people marching down the street. “I can’t say what we agreed upon.” Myriam waved the laden utensil in front of her. “Not when there’s a funeral procession for a member of the ruling elite.”
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As Quinn’s door opened, someone emerged from the shadows and leaned against the frame, lifting a pad to obscure his face. “Do not overreact when you read this.”
Quinn placed the stopper in the carafe and carried his drink to his desk. “Personally, I’d get tired of repeating that line before every report.”
The man shook his head as he continued brandishing the small device. “Unfortunately, I know you and how you react when you hear unpleasant news.” He shrugged, tapping the pad against his hip. “And like always, I’m bearing an unfortunate update, so don’t shoot.”
Quinn slipped into his seat as an eyebrow climbed up his forehead. With a sip, he waved his courier to approach. He lowered the glass and tapped it against the wooden surface. As the agent sauntered forward, Quinn’s chin fell into his open palm as he continued tapping a march in time with the messenger’s stride. When the individual stopped in front of the desk, Quinn raised the glass to his nose and took a deep breath. “Dorian, can’t you ever bring me pleasant news?”
A sigh rushed from Dorian’s lips as his hand swallowed his face. “There’s a reason for that.”
“After the day I’ve had, I need cheering up.” With a sigh, Quinn pressed his glass to his temple, while his free hand fell, thudding against the desk. He sipped the pale liquid and bit his lip. “I miss the simpler days.”
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To continue reading the story, click here to head over to Wattpad.
I remembered taking my turn behind the scope to study the area. Despite a serious search, I found nothing at first. It didn’t take long, but I eventually saw motion. As scout after scout recognized the movement, this older scout proclaimed that the thing twitching was a crocodile or an alligator. It doesn’t matter which animal was supposedly on the other side of the water. As a young man, well as a young teen, I was terrified that we were so close to a predator. So I kept studying it, trying to figure out why it hadn’t stormed our campsite.
Eventually, the older scout told us he was leveraging our imaginations. All he did was make a suggestion, which stoked our overactive minds. The scout allowed our minds to do the heavy lifting for him. I’m not sure if he felt bad for scaring a bunch of younger kids, or if the scoutmaster told him to knock it off. Ultimately, it didn’t matter, since the dread he stirred up refused to retreat. It’s also the perfect example of a storyteller using the most powerful tool he has, the audience’s imagination.
With that memory firmly in place, it made perfect sense to pair it with Lucas and his ghosts as he finishes a picnic with a glass of wine. Come, sit down and allow me to give you a mini-escape and kindle your imagination.
The wine trickled down Lucas’s throat while Ricky floated overhead. Lucas laid the cup down and rubbed his eyes. “Ricky, get back into your portrait!”
The shade groaned and jerked an ethereal thumb over his shoulder. “I suppose you’re not concerned with the monster, lurking in the distance.”
Lucas sipped his wine while a female voice filled the air. “There’s nobody over there.”
With a snort, Ricky wrapped himself around Lucas like a snake. “Samantha, I’m not imagining that scaly mass.”
Lucas took a gulp of his drink and walked to the river’s edge.
As the ghost’s body began slipping into its portrait, Ricky pointed toward the shadows. “Can’t you see it?”
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Neither of these hand studies is perfect, but each pushed me past my comfort zone. When I sat down to work on Touching Water, I had a larger composition firmly entrenched in my mind. But the moment I finished capturing the mage’s hand, I dismissed the wizard, letting his features fade from my memory. I’m sure one day, that fellow will burst out of the fuzzy corners of my mind and demand the portrait I refused to do, but that’s a problem for future me.
On the flip side, when I sat down to draw Blocked Sun, I’d just seen a tutorial focusing on Subsurface Scattering and I wanted to explore it. Of course, before I scratched a single line on my tablet, I thought back to all the times I pressed a flashlight against my hands and grinned at the red glow emanating from my hand. As I roughed out the fingers, I realized it would be fun to position my subject in front of the setting sun.
Hunker down in your chair and enjoy the artwork below. As always, if you want a better look click a picture to head over to my DeviantArt gallery and consider buying a print.
]]>My initial thoughts for the story upended the horror aspect of the tale with a sibling eager to get even. However, it didn’t take long to dismiss that ending or most of the Doctor Who episode. Instead, as I worked on my first draft, my mind plucked aspects of Supernatural out of the darkest corners of my mind and wove them into the narrative. During my first round of edits, I refined my new central character and saw some traits from Owen (from Monster Hunter International) and Kote (from the Kingkiller Chronicles), which made me smile.
But I pushed through the grin and continued editing my current horror tale. Sit down and get comfortable, so you can delve into the story.
Jacob saunter into his vacant home after the open house and samples the buffet. As he relaxes, a creak pulls him out of his revelry…
The man walked to the buffet and grabbed the knife from the table. He licked his lips while slicing a strip of brie from the wedge. The man snatched a slab of bread and folded it around the soft cheese as he twirled the blade. With a grunt, he slammed the utensil onto the table and took a bite as he sauntered toward his comfortable chair.
With a groan, he dropped into his recliner and popped the rest of the morsel into his mouth. While he finished the morsel, he reached down and grabbed the stack of documents and his phone. With a swipe of his thumb, he unlocked his device and dialed his realtor.
When the rings stopped, a gruff voice filled the silence. “Jacob, can’t this wait?”
“I’m looking for a simple answer.”
“You have all the paperwork.”
“It’s your job to translate this stack of files?” Jacob rolled the documents and struck his leg with the resulting tube. “Please bottom line this chaos for me?”
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Darren slammed a book onto the table as the bags under his eyes darkened. “This may be a different subject than Volodar’s required reading.” Darren’s fingers pressed against his temples as his eyelids sagged. “But after a couple nights filled to the brim with obscure texts, it’s all blurring together. Are you hungry?”
“You’re always hungry.”
Darren rubbed the back of his neck as he stared into Lia’s pale blue eyes. “Don’t go twisting my words into a statement that I didn’t make.”
Lia reached out and pinched the peel with her fingertips. Lifting it up, she waggled it in front of Darren’s nose. “This isn’t something I ate.”
“An odd snack means nothing.” Darren snatched the trash and tossed it into a trashcan. As the peal vanished, Darren’s fingers bounced against the table’s edge.
“Uh-huh.”
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Of course, while the troopers are trying to breach the blast doors, a single X-Wing arrives. And the pilot pulls out a light saber and dispatched the fearsome platoon of robotic soldiers. If not for Mando’s struggle, despite the previous episodes showcasing his combat skills, we couldn’t appreciate how skilled and powerful the lone Jedi is. In a few minutes, the juxtaposition did more to emphasize the Jedi’s power than we’ve seen in any Star Wars movie.
While I have yet to introduce Emilie to my readers, I’ve teased some powers available to people like Ramas and Emilie. Over time, I will continue delving into the depths of their powers, but it is far too soon for them to have a direct confrontation. Of course, that kind of fight will have to be done in a short story or novella, so I don’t shortchange their powers. However, I wanted to hint at her respective power, so I pitted Ramas against one of her armies.
Come, sit down and allow me to give you a mini-escape and kindle your imagination.
Dirt fell from Ramas’s palanquin as it approached the mounted man. With a flourish of his hand, a staff materialized in Ramas’s grasp. He slammed the tip against the floating earth, and it dropped. “You’re trespassing. By the decree of Nilus, leave and never return.”
The general bent down, rubbing his mare’s neck. “Unfortunately, Emilie doesn’t recognize Nilus’s claim.” He sat up and gestured at the army behind him. “Despite your impressive power, I have the numbers…”
“To die a forgotten man.” Ramas tapped his earthen slab with his cane, and it rose. He leaned forward and the section of ground slowly circled the commander. “Who are you?”
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Every time I look at Forest Sunset 001, I get lost in the mingling colors and clouds, dancing atop the horizon. Despite being a self-proclaimed geek, I love nature. I could sit on a mountaintop and stare into a sunset for years at a time. Thankfully, now whenever I’m longing for a majestic view, I can reach into my digital portfolio and pull up this landscape, instead of chasing about the world searching for one.
While I enjoy flexing my artistic skills with a variety of endeavors, my ultimate goal is to capture the characters from my stories. Given my current skill level, character work is like a heavy workout in the weight room, so it’s something I do sparingly. Fortunately, with results like Reaching Out, I can appreciate my growth. It’s just an open hand floating in a tunnel, but I am happy with how it turned out.
Creeping Plant rounds out this week’s trio and highlights the power of the liquify tool. While I don’t remember the exact shape that I started with, after all the swirls and nudges, a plant sprouting from the ground made me smile. After I finished giving the plant its depth and texture, my attention shifted to the background. Fortunately, it didn’t take me long to rough out the earth.
Hunker down in your chair and enjoy the artwork below. As always, if you want a better look click a picture to head over to my DeviantArt gallery and consider buying a print.
]]>So far, each installment has been packed full of interesting characters, it doesn’t matter if they’re the main characters or appearing for a brief cameo. And speaking of the titular characters, the dynamic between Simon and Tristan is priceless. Ever since Peaches the Hellhound became something other than a massive and odd pet, the exchanges between Simon and the creature have been beautiful to behold. When I finished Blood is Thicker, the ending stormed into the broad strokes of Silver Clouds Dirty Sky, bothered me. The only instance where I’m okay with a dangling storyline is when I’m presented with a clear-cut multi-part novel, i.e., a Part One and Two, or a trilogy.
Typically, whenever I run into that kind of shenanigan, I’m done with the author. However, there are two reasons I’ve ignored the teased storylines. The first is how late I discovered the series. Orlando Sanchez has published a fair number of books following the detective and mage, so I will hope that this behavior winds down as I progress further into the case files. While I’ll admit that’s a slim hope, the main reason I continue is for the trio of Tristan, Simon, and Peaches.
These characters are too addictive for me to write off. Thankfully, this installment doesn’t disappoint. Their antics continue to pull me along with their misadventures. The beginning of Silver Clouds Dirty Sky, starts right on the heels of rescuing Michiko from the Blood Hunters. Unfortunately, their victory appeared to be short-lived, as their magical tank turned to dust. Before the deathblow could be dealt, Dex teleported everyone across the pond, depositing them in London. Before they can say a word, the group gets sucked into the local politics and carnage ensues. As they escape from the fire, they wind up needing to deal with an infestation of demons.
With each page, Orlando Sanchez strikes the perfect balance between action and dispensing knowledge. Every tidbit brings a little more of the mystery into focus, allowing everyone to follow the unfolding plot. The ending of this story is satisfying. Unfortunately, just like Blood is Thicker, Orlando has shoved a scene into the book that sets up the major conflict of the next narrative. Fortunately, for Mr. Sanchez, his characters help me get past this significant drawback.
]]>It’s amazing how hard it is to whip up a story line when you are given absolute freedom. When presented with such a blank canvas, I’m like a deer held fast by the headlights. Occasionally, when I collect the results, a fledgling concept will take hold and grow. Unfortunately, when I saw the list, my barren mind stared at the genre. So, I turned to the previous prompts for NYC Midnight and selected a random one.
With the skeleton in place, my mind instantly started adding the meat of the narrative. Since I anchored this comedy inside a buddy story, the dynamic between the characters filled most of my initial draft. And I doubled down with the object, placing this duo on a kayaking camping trip as they arrive at their campsite for the night. With those broad strokes made, the rest of the story flowed from my fingertips.
Saul and Peter are avid kayakers, and while they tackle the rapids their friend Rosa sets up their campsite…
A pair of kayaks sliced through the river, carrying their occupants to the shoreline. As both hulls touched the sediment, one kayaker tossed his oar onto the grass and grinned as he loosened his skirt from his kayak. As his feet reached the bottom, his hand gripped the handle. When he looked over his shoulder, a spray flew into his eyes. He wiped the droplets from his face and flicked them at his friend. “Peter, why do you wait for me to turn around before jumping in?”
Covering his quivering mouth, Peter clapped Saul’s shoulder. “That’s not something I do.” With a wink, he slid his paddle into his kayak and ambled toward the shore. “It’s just a pleasant coincidence when it happens.”
“Once or twice, I’d believe you.” Saul stopped, dropping the boat onto the ground. He spun around and waggled a finger in front of Peter. “But when it is every time, you lose some credibility.”
“You shouldn’t overthink things.” Peter placed his kayak alongside Saul’s and studied the campsite. “Wasn’t Rosa supposed to wait here?”
Saul walked over to the campfire, grabbing a nearby pair of pliers off a chair. With a shrug, he squatted beside the glowing embers and grabbed the lid for the Dutch oven. “The coals are low enough that she probably felt comfortable running some errands.”
Peter sauntered to the tents and ran his finger along the closest rope. “While that sounds reasonable, it’s not like her.”
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After Darvin left, Rylan sent a message to his father-in-law to start the production of the vessels. Garvin pushed back on some of the leaner aspects of Rylan’s initial designs, but eventually the two came to an agreement. Promptly after that, Garvin arranged for the construction of the three vessels. With the production of the ships started, Rylan’s focus shifts to acquiring all the various bits of gear Darvin insisted his pilots would need for their flights. With the ships constructed and the equipment purchased, will Darvin be satisfied? Or will he insist Rylan and Garvin provide more for the selected pilots?
Darvin’s fingers traced the outer hull of the vessel as he roamed around the spaceship. When he made a full circuit of the craft, he knocked his knuckles against the fuselage. Darvin wrung his hands and scurried across the warehouse to Rylan. “You weren’t kidding about the size of these ships.”
Rylan rubbed his jaw while his foot tapped the warehouse’s floor. “If I recall correctly, single seaters were all that I promised for your pilots.” Rylan ran his fingers through his hair and grinned. He gripped his quivering leg, stopping its motion. “I trust they’re able to pilot those.”
“Capable?” Darvin’s massive shoulders climbed while his lips contorted. “Yes, but they won’t enjoy the flight.”
“Unfortunately, their ability is the only pertinent factor.”
With a shake of his head, Darvin lifted the pack and withdrew a tablet. He slipped the bag’s strap over his shoulder and activated the device. He flipped through the documents and opened the schematics for the vessel. As his gaze climbed up, he tapped the tip of his nose. “Are all the coffins the same model?”
With a snort, Rylan strode to Darvin and lifted the pad. “Everything you need is detailed in these files, but yes, all three ships are identical.”
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While I haven’t explored Ramas and Nilus’s abilities, I’ve hinted at them. This entry will focus on the major side effect that accompanies their special skills. As we continue to explore these individuals, the reasons behind the corruption will be revealed. But for now, Ramas and Nilus are meeting for the first time after agreeing to never see each other again.
Come, sit down and allow me to give you a mini-escape and kindle your imagination.
As Ramas’s earthen palanquin touched down, it sent a burst of wind in every direction, knocking over a collection of vials. “Why’d you summon me?”
“I’m surprised you announced yourself.”
“What did you do with my messenger?”
Nilus waved one hand while his other tightened into a fist. As Nilus lifted it, the liquid rose, forming a swirling mass. “He bears your mark, you tell me.”
“However, I cannot sense him?”
Laughter filled the air between them as the fluid contracted to a single point. “I have an attachment with the entire town, which is where he’s relaxing. But we have important matters to discuss.”
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However, as I lifted my stylus, that intermediate picture felt empty. It needed something else to complete it. Thankfully, I saw what was hiding beneath the scribbles. So, I buckled down and coaxed the hidden order from the chaos. The moment my creature crystalized on the screen. I added the landscape around my monster, allowing my giant’s walk through a forest to emerge.
The second piece is the first serious study I’ve done of a hand, Clenched Fist. While I’m still a long way from being able to draw realistic images of the characters stomping about my mind, I am improving, and I hope pieces like this prove it.
Sit back and enjoy the artwork below and as always, click on any image below to get a better look at the picture.
]]>Jarvis sauntered into the laboratory and leaned against the doorframe. He stood there, studying the abandoned and exposed innards of the plasma cannon. Jarvis folded his arms across his chest and cleared his throat. “Cecile, how’s your work progressing?”
A curse echoed off the walls, and as silence raced to refill the space, Cecile’s head crested the workbench. “You weren’t supposed to bother me for a couple days while I performed my diagnostics.”
“That’s why you got five.”
“Has it truly been that long?”
Jarvis nodded as he retrieved an implement off the deck. “Based on where you are, I’ll assume you’re poking at my engine.”
Cecile snatched the tool from Jarvis, returning to the opening. “I’m following your standing orders to get this bucket off the ground.”
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Warning focuses on Ramas Caldwell’s principles. Despite the power forced upon him, Ramas wanders about the continent searching for seclusion. But the common folk know what he is and try to run him off. With dedication and an application of will, Ramas contains the bubbling anger churning within him. Today’s installment highlights who he is when his rigid will softens, even for a moment.
Come, sit down and allow me to give you a mini-escape while I kindle your imagination.
As the tip of the staff pressed against the sleeping man’s cape, the lithe figure’s eyes narrowed. He looked about the small glade and touched the wooden stave against the stranger’s neck.
Instantly, the sleepy figure blurred into motion, gripping the length of wood. With a tug, Ramas jumped to his feet while his fingers dug into the soft material, splitting the rod in half. Bits of the wood dripped from each section, like water tumbling off a rock. “Who are you?”
The stranger dropped the remnant and threw his hands up. “I have a message from Nilus Sutton.”
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]]>Talia’s fingertips traced the wall as she sauntered toward her husband’s confiscated office and its guard. “Vincent, did Marcus demote you to a doorman?”
The large man chuckled as he laid his head against the wooden surface, while his fingers crept to his brow. “Morning, Talia. How are you doing today?”
“Aside from my annoyance, I’m doing well.”
He reached over his shoulder, touching the worn wood with his knuckles. “Correct me if I am wrong, but aren’t you supposed to be back east, with the land and little ones?”
“In an ideal world, my husband and I would both be home.” Talia stopped in front of Vincent and rolled to the tips of her toes, wrapping her arms around the large man’s neck. She kissed his cheek and dropped back to her feet. “I was content living with my family, and when I got bored our animals kept me busy. Unfortunately, Kethra couldn’t deal with that.”
“If you were happy back home, why brave the trains?”
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So I end up choosing my projects for a couple of reasons. First, how quickly I can complete it. And second, who are my compelling characters. I have not abandoned my novels. In fact, I’m eager to share Francis’s next journey with everyone. Unfortunately, the time required to finish the next project continues to elide me. Thankfully, my Flash Fiction posts, and now the Micro Fiction ones allow me to sharpen my wit and diction constantly, liking the characters allows me to have my cake and eat it too. 😊
As I hunkered down with my tablet, one of my many storylines inspired my fingers and I created an interesting character. By the time I finished crafting the image, I had enough of the character to place him into the wider setting I carved out for people with his abilities. Come, sit down and allow me to give you a mini-escape and kindle your imagination.
The cape gripped Ramas’s helm, lifting it off his head. As the cloth coiled about the helmet like a snake wrapping around its prey, Ramas squatted beside the injured attacker and flicked him. “What did you learn?”
The man wiped blood from the corner of his lips and glared into Ramas’s milky white eyes. “You’re tougher than you appear.”
Ramas twirled his fingers and pointed to the sky. Instantly, the opponent jumped to his feet and his hands clawed at his mouth. Ramas stepped in front of the fool, shoving his face next to his. “Unlike the rest of my kind, I’m not seeking an empire.”
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Dolman stumbled into Randall’s office. When he steadied himself, he whirled around, glaring at the individual standing in the opening. His snarl intensified as he brushed his shoulders. “Who do you think you are?”
The lithe figure closed the distance and whispered, “I’m Randall’s top lieutenant.” He pressed his index finger into Dolman’s forehead and pushed, “You’re one of the vast and useless minions.”
“Don’t get cocky, Markus.” The stocky dwarf swatted the man’s hand off his head. Dolman shoved the other man away from him and barred his teeth. “Positions change as the river of time progresses.”
“While there’s truth to that,” Markus said, inching closer to the stout figure. “Your place isn’t about to alter.” He placed his palm on Dolman’s chest. “And even for someone as limited as you, the purpose of this meeting, should be self-evident.” Markus shoved Dolman further into the room and left, slamming the door behind him.
“Markus is correct.” Randall steepled his fingers under his chin and smirked. “Do you understand why I summoned you?”
Dolman’s shoulders sagged as he dragged his feet toward the chair opposite Randall. He gripped its back while his lips twisted into a smirk. “Isn’t it about time to drop this charade?”
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]]>Samuel may be one of the newer residents in my mental landscape, but I enjoy getting to know him with each new installment in his life. Back in February, I wrote Runaway as my Historical Fiction tale for the month. As my mind toiled at the edges of the story, I quickly fused the Historical Fiction with a Fantasy. And I was rewarded with another wizard that I’m excited about getting to know. Since I’m still getting to know Samuel, I tossed Suspense into the mix.
But I needed to create the scaffold for Samuel’s story. So, I delved through NYC Midnight’s past prompts and was eager to craft a narrative centering in a ghost town and featuring a bearskin rug. Sit down and get comfortable as we follow this hunter as he searches for his latest bounty.
Samuel and Pearl have chased after Thomas for weeks. But no matter how swiftly they fly, he always manages to vanish in a puff of smoke…
The claws tore furrows into the barren earth as Pearl’s wings wrapped around her body. Samuel rubbed her neck while his eyes focused on the closest dilapidated building. With a sigh, Samuel withdrew a sheet from his jacket and laid it across Perl’s rough skin. The picture staring up at Samuel captured the hunter’s attention.
As his fingertips traced the lines of Thomas’s face, Samuel reached back and started unfastening his main bundle. While he re-examined the brief blurb, the pack began slipping down Pearl’s hide. Samuel hauled the bag onto his lap and rifled through its contents. He pulled out a small vial, filled with a reddish yellow liquid, and carefully placed it between his lips. He twisted in his saddle, secured the duffle, grabbed his Winchester, and slid down Pearl’s leg.
The serpentine head doubled back, brushing against Samuel’s cheek.
The hunter removed the bottle from his mouth and lowered her eyelids.
A low rumble emanated from Pearl’s neck.
“Relax.” Samuel’s fingers followed her quick motions. “I know you dislike closing your eyes, but with what I’m about to do, if you don’t close them, you’ll go blind.”
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Darvin twisted the statue in his hands as a whistle tore through the thick silence. The large man’s eyes flicked up and latched onto Rylan. Darvin patted the pedestal and grinned. He placed the sculpture down, “I often forget the depths of your collection.”
“It rarely shrinks.”
Darvin winked and walked to another display. “It’s interesting, considering your life on Tergara started as an infamous technician.”
“Our lives have certainly taken a meandering path.” Rylan gripped his friend’s shoulder and pulled him away from the artwork. He guided the broad shouldered Darvin into his office and gestured to a chair. “However, I didn’t call you here to reminisce about the good old days.”
The massive man smirked, pulling a pair of pads from under his jacket. Darvin slid them across the desk and tapped them with a meaty finger. “The first contains redacted resumes for the best pilots available. Every one of them can undertake this mission, collect all the information you’re seeking, and is completely trustworthy.”
Waving the device, Rylan leaned close. “You’re not going to share their names?”
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Despite possessing the broad strokes for Daniel Shaw’s pending story, I needed something more. I kept the narrative’s sketch firmly entrenched in my mind and hopped onto a browser. My fingers quickly navigated me to NYC Midnight, and I started searching. I dove into a previous year’s collection and let my search term loop through the science fiction options. As the page cycled through the entries, I felt like a kid on Christmas. When I released the Enter key, I didn’t know how I would fit a canal onto a spaceship. But I was eager to try. Sit down and get comfortable as we follow Daniel’s latest adventure.
Daniel brings Harlan and Rachel with him to a remote section of the massive vessel’s waterway, where they wait for Stepan’s carrier…
Rachel’s cupped fingertips reached into the flowing water, letting it fill her hand. She rose, pulling her fingers out of the river, and let the clear liquid slip through the gaps. Rachel turned around and grinned as she sauntered back to Daniel and Harlan. “You should have brought Franco.”
With a snort, Harlan’s eyelids closed as his head fell. “Can you explain how an engineer would benefit this mission?”
“For a simple exchange, why are you here?” Her fingertips pressed against her chest as her eyes curled into a sultry grin. “For that matter, why was I volunteered for this simplistic trade?”
Daniel shoved his hands into his pockets and pushed himself off the wall. He walked over to her and traced a knuckle against her nose. “The client we’re meeting on behalf of Stepan, is said to have a soft spot for an attractive woman.”
“Well, that’s a valid reason for choosing me to accompany you.” Rachel dragged her wet fingertip along Daniel’s cheek. She playfully slapped his cheek and jerked her chin toward Harlan as the tip of her tongue poked out. “However, can you clarify the wisdom of dragging your weapon’s expert into this meeting?”
“He’s the stick.” Daniel leaned over and stared at the rushing water, “But you didn’t answer Harlan’s question.”
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]]>As the ship’s alarm blared to life, Dyrk’s voice crackled over the speakers, “We have incoming!”
With trembling lips, Jarvis dashed to the nearest station and activated it. “What’s heading for us this time?”
“Would you believe a flying battalion?”
Fenton shouldered Jarvis out of the way and punched the hull. “What did you say?”
“Don’t ask stupid questions, you heard me.”
Jarvis pulled his hand off the terminal and gestured to the closest exit. “Stop antagonizing Dyrk! Grab the best marksman we have.”
Fenton backed toward the hatch and shrugged. “What will they do against flying cavalry?”
“You’ll keep them away from the defensive batteries.”
With a curt nod, Fenton whirled around and leapt through the opening. “On it!”
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After staring at the empty screen, I opened my Chrome browser and visited a page of past NYC Midnight prompts. A few seconds into the search I landed on an interesting one, though its location and object weren’t assigned to a Mystery. But it didn’t matter. The combination sparked my mind. May’s instalment of Insight Investigations will take place in a planetarium and feature a ribbon. And just like that, the storyline flourished, as the outline couldn’t flow from my fingers fast enough. Sit down and follow Kyle as he searches for a murderer.
Kyle Rickman’s latest investigation drags him to a local planetarium. Despite previous searches, Kyle is certain he’ll uncover the truth…
Kyle leaned against the doorframe and withdrew a worn leather-bound notebook from his coat pocket. He ran his fingertips along the supple cover and pulled the small pen from its slot. Kyle eased the book open and thumbed through the pages until he located the section devoted to this client’s case. The pencil’s tip bounced against the sheet as he reviewed the details.
When he finished, Kyle laid the pencil against the interior binding and closed the book around his index finger. Folding his arms across his chest, Kyle walked into the domed chamber. While Kyle’s eyes flittered about the room, he meandered through the seats. Halfway through one row, Kyle stopped and bent down to explore the area under the chair. He spotted a scrap of paper and pressed the eraser against it to drag it out.
Kyle’s fingers traced his chin as he perused the tattered document. He released the sheet and withdrew his phone. Kyle unlocked the device and called the first number programed in it. When the ringing stopped, Kyle cleared his throat. “Dwayne, can you pull up some documentation on Clarissa’s case?”
“If you graduated from that paper notebook of yours to a nifty tablet you wouldn’t have to make so many of these calls.”
Kyle grinned as he climbed into an open seat. His head dropped to the back of the chair, making several clicks with his tongue. “You’re technically correct, but there’s a slight consequence with that alteration.”
“Yeah, what’s that?”
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Talia’s fingers wrapped around the edge of the tattered door. With a deep breath, she shoved the worn wood, and it slammed into the far wall. Nathaniel’s eyebrows climbed while Talia tapped on the damaged frame. “You realize other buildings suffered more devastation and have been repaired. Why haven’t you approved the restoration of your building?”
Nathaniel buried his eyes into a hand as he lifted a sheet of paper. “There are more pressing concerns than having my office door replaced.”
“There’s always an excuse.” Talia shook her head and sauntered to the open chair. She slipped into it and plucked the report from Nathaniel’s grip and gestured at the destruction. “You are the leader of this coalition.” Talia laid the document on his desk and huffed. “As a result, you need to consider your appearance and requisition the repairs for this structure.”
“The damages to this building.” Nathaniel slumped as his fingers twirled about the small office. “Specifically, this room is on the list of renovations.” Nathaniel’s hand shot out like a snake, reclaiming the paper. Nathaniel returned it to the pile and his hands smoothed out the rumpled sheet. “However, the time to restore this chamber isn’t as important as the recovery and restoration of the rest of the region.”
A whistle sliced through the air as Talia gripped the corner of the document. She tugged on it and scowled when it refused to budge. “This has nothing to do with your willingness to work in this wreck.”
Nathaniel shook his head as a smile emerged. He lifted his fingers and leaned against his chair. “No, this is something else.”
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]]>Sit back and enjoy the artwork below and as always, click on any image below to get a better look at the picture.
]]>Sit back and enjoy the artwork below and as always, click on any image below to get a better look at the picture.
]]>I enjoyed the broad strokes of that tale so much that I reused them with another tale, Message. So when I settled in to write my latest ghost story, I pulled on the same threads to craft the story. Which means there is another ghost who is wandering throughout a city with a note and a booming voice trying to get him to an address. Unfortunately, Gregor is a little stubborn, so the voice has to press the issue. Sit down and watch as Gregor learns about the impact his life had on others.
Death is nothing like what Gregor thought it would be. He is alone and unable to interact with anyone. Gregor’s only guide is a note…
The shade wafted above the quiet streets of the city, while running his fingers through his thinning hair. As he approached the sidewalk, the spirit descended to the pavement and spun around, chewing his lower lip. “I figured that part of being dead, was the ability to haunt anyone you didn’t like.” His gaze drifted up while his lips stiffened, “There’s always traffic on the roads! But since I’ve woken up, I haven’t seen a single soul to scare.”
“Gregor, follow your instructions!”
The ghost’s hands flew to protect his ears while his knees buckled to the ground. When the reverberations from the booming voice vanished, Gregor’s eyes darted across the sky. His body rose from the cement and he brushed off his ghostly shoulder. “Yeah, you keep saying that.” Gregor lifted his left palm and tapped the note attached to it. “Unfortunately, the only piece of information you gave was an address. We’ve had this discussion, and without significantly more than that, I’ll pass.”
“You will discover the answers you seek, if you follow the guide.”
The shade interlaced his hands behind his head and laid back, drifting above the sidewalk. He looked to each side, released a long breath, and crossed his ankles. “And I’ve told you, unless I know what I’ll find there, I’m more comfortable relaxing somewhere else.” With a smile worming its way across his lips, Gregor closed his eyes. “Your choices couldn’t be simpler. If I need to undertake this journey, then tell me what I am supposed to discover. Otherwise, I’m going to relax right here.”
Bright yellow lights sparked to life amidst the clouds and began dancing amongst them. “Get up and gather your answers.”
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]]>Armed with this core tenant, I dove into NYC Midnight’s catalogue and plucked a random fairy tale prompt. A backyard is a blank canvas to work with, so I was happy with that leg of my narrative. The firecracker was a little more difficult to weave into the story. Thankfully, the time crunch sparked an idea in my head, and I ran with it. This narrative quickly turned into a buddy story with a lot of character development. Sit down and follow Luis as he educates Raine about the dangers of fireworks.
Luis and his family and friends are putting on a firework show. However, there is a special guest visible only to Luis’s eyes…
A fluttering creature tugged on Luis’s earlobe and cupping his hand around his lips. “You should pick up that strange branch and turn it on.”
Luis kept his focus on the fireworks blooming to life in the sky as his fingers shot towards the sprite. Unfortunately, they tightened about air as the sprite’s wings propelled itself out of Luis’s grasp. Luis covered his mouth and whispered, “Stop pestering me.”
The creature’s wings blurred as it drifted into the boy’s eye line. “Why’d you try to snatch me?” Drifting to the ground, the fairy’s foot tapped against the small tube. “I just wanted you to grab this odd branch.”
Luis snatched the sprite and dashed into the house’s shadow. He cracked his grip and stared at the little creature. “Raine, you know the rules.”
“Sorry,” the fairy said as his eyes rolled. “But the other large folk weren’t paying attention to you.” He twirled a finger at the display spreading above them, “They’re obsessed with those colorful explosions.”
“I’m trying to enjoy it as well.”
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]]>I found this one from NYC Midnight’s past catalogue. Though I didn’t like the Comedy ones, so I searched the page for one that spoke to me. It didn’t take me long to liberate the location and object from another one to serve as the backbone for this attempt at comedy. With the location firmly entrenched in my mind, my memory screamed at me to leverage some of the comedy skits I’ve seen on Whose Line is it Anyway. Sit down and follow Elizabeth and Gregory as they volunteer for a fundraiser.
Elizabeth is a wonderful person who seeks to help everyone join her as she drags her boyfriend to her latest fundraiser…
“Elizabeth, I know you enjoy dedicating your spare time to helping people.” He wriggled his hands under his chin, “But why are we heading to this fundraiser?”
“Bah,” Elizabeth spun around as her lips curled into a deep smile. Her head fell to her shoulder while she walked backwards towards their destination. “Gregory, why is the idea of helping the needy such a problem for you?”
Gregory grabbed her shoulders and pulled her towards him, “Why do you jump to this argument?”
With a smirk, Elizabeth shrugged out of his grasp and waggled her finger.
Gregory sucked on his lips as he took a deep breath. “No, there’s nothing wrong with helping people,” Gregory muttered as he dragged his fingers down his face. With a grunt, Gregory thrust his hands into his pockets as he kicked some debris into the street.
“Then why are you arguing about this?” Her hands slammed together under her devilish grin. Elizabeth twirled around and hurried down the sidewalk. “Now stop lollygagging! There are people who need our help.”
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]]>Sit back and enjoy the artwork below and as always, click on any image below to get a better look at the picture.
]]>“Do you have questions concerning this council’s decision?”
Olyver’s fingers tightened around his wrists as he took long breaths through his nose. His fingernails dug into his skin as his eyes flitted between the triad of leaders flanking Caitlin and Quinn. “Would this council consider or dismiss my objections to this farce?”
Caitlin sighed and rested her chin on the gavel, “This assembly will address any of your concerns. However, I don’t think you have any valid reason to object to our decision.”
“I knew it.” Olyver’s eyes scrunched into slits as his fists trembled. “I thought you wanted to keep this process honest.”
Bang!
Caitlin dropped the small hammer and steepled her fingers under her chin, “Contrary to your belief. This council has performed its duty with integrity. Just because you disagree with its determination does not mean it’s void of honor.”
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While I was unsure how to craft Samuel’s new adventure, I was too eager to start his journey. Thankfully, I had come across a picture of an old-fashioned lantern that sparked my imagination. With the image in mind, I painted the broad swathes of Samuel and Pearl’s recent narrative. From those bare bones, I quickly detailed out the first draft. Despite the roughness of that initial pass, I stormed through the revisions until I was satisfied with Samuel’s latest search. Sit down and follow Samuel as he delves into a quarry to explore for his newest bounty.
Samuel chases Ronald Weaver to an abandoned mine. He leaves Pearl at the entrance as he explores the hidden depths with a magical lantern…
Pearl’s talons raked the ground as she settled down beside the cave. The dragon paced about the entrance while her neck folded along itself so she could study her rider.
Samuel reached up and caressed his creature’s maw as a grin split his face. He unfastened himself from the harness and spun around to open the saddlebag to his right and rummaged through it. After several moments, Samuel lifted a small comb and bounced the end against his left fist. He dropped it into the bag and continued searching.
Pearl nudged her snout between his shoulder blades.
He reached back, cupping Pearl’s neck with his arm as his fingers gripped around a metallic handle. He yanked a lantern from his leather satchel and slid down Pearl’s side. When his boots touched the ground, Samuel laid the thin strip of metal against his belt’s hook.
His feet rolled onto his toes as he drew his rifle from Pearl’s harness and rested it against his shoulder. Samuel reached down to the lantern’s base, twisted the dial, and the wickless chamber burst alight with a purple glow. Standing up, Samuel caressed the dragon’s side, “I’m heading inside to collect my bounty.”
The dragon nuzzled her maw against Samuel’s arm.
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]]>“Dolman is rethinking his allegiance,” Roland said as he ushered Darren through a doorway. Roland’s fierce gaze swept across his minions, scattering them. He followed Darren and pulled the door shut behind him. “Dolman’s rebelling because you refused to help.”
Darren strode across the room and snatched a book from the desk. He flicked it open and perused the contents, “I doubt your most devoted lackey is about to cause problems for you.”
“Don’t count on his initial fear keeping him in check.”
Darren snapped the tome closed, walked behind Roland’s desk, and plopped into the chair. He tossed the ledger next to the pile and selected another from the stack. Darren leaned back in the seat and thumbed through pages. Halfway through the volume, Darren grinned. He dropped the book, spinning it around, “We’ll discuss Dolman later.” Darren slid the ledger towards Roland, tapping the page, “But there’s something more pressing.”
“What’s more vital than a traitor?”
Darren lifted the leger and tapped his fingertip against an entry. “Just a couple of weeks ago, you stormed into my room at the Academy, demanding that I toss my education aside to come down here and help with a job.”
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While I knew whose life I was going to explore, I couldn’t think of a story to suit him. After spinning my wheels for a couple days, I leapt to NYC Midnight and mined one of their fantasy prompts. With the place and object in mind, I headed over to Pexels and tore through the stock photos there looking for a wooden rope swing. Once I found one, I liked the story exploded into my mind. Every time the story iterated in my mind, the tale changed radically. Thankfully, I was ecstatic with the final narrative. Sit down and get comfortable as we follow Wendell’s negotiation with a trader.
Follow Wendell as he seeks to acquire goods from an old acquaintance. Will Wendell get the merchandise from the trader…
The man tugged his cloak tightly about his neck as he shuffled in place, “Old man, I have places to be.”
“Your aware my name’s Saul,” the wizened merchant said, rolling his eyes. Pulling a hand off the bowl, Saul jabbed the younger man’s chest. “Wendell, if you don’t start addressing me by my name, then I’ll start calling you runt.”
Wendell drew his lips across his teeth as he peeled Saul’s fingers off him, “You need to learn how to relax.”
Saul proffered the dish back to Wendell, “And you’re welcome to find another merchant to buy your trinkets.”
“I wasn’t trying to insult you.” Wendell shoved the bowl into Saul’s chest. “However, if you don’t appreciate being called an old man, maybe you shouldn’t encourage the comparison.” Wendell tapped the container’s lip. “Now, if only we can agree to its worth.”
With a curt nod, Saul pulled the basin closer to his eyes as he spun it around. After his examination, Saul placed it next to his ear and rapped the bottom with his knuckles. A smile wormed its way onto Saul’s face as the wizened merchant laid the container on his table. Saul pressed the side of the dish against the surface, licking his lips. When he removed his hand, the bowl rolled back into place.
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Darvin’s lips curled into a smile as he covered his mouth. “Rylan, you don’t call, you won’t write, I mean it’s not like you weren’t beaten into a coma.”
Rylan’s palms flew to his cheeks as he swallowed a scream. “Do not start with that. We met shortly before Liam arranged my beating.” Rylan grabbed a stylus off his desk, “Plus, Annabelle kept you in the loop.” He flung the stylus at Darvin, punctuating his statement.
The implement sailed through Darvin’s hologram and bounced off the far wall. The muscular man grinned and seized something from beside his holographic emitter. With a flourish, Darvin pressed a pen against his temple. “Is that what you were hoping for?”
“Yes,” Rylan’s arms folded over his chest, “Can we move on?”
“While there’s a lot I’ll do for you,” Darvin twirled the stylus once and dropped it. “I’m not available to become a bodyguard.”
“That’s a discussion I’m sure Annabelle would jump on,” Rylan lifted a pad. “Unfortunately, we have more pressing concerns, is your end secure?”
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]]>Fenton leaned against the conference room’s doorframe as his gaze tracked from Dyrk to Jarvis, “Is everything functioning correctly?” But before either could speak, Fenton ran his hand through his hair, “How about you, Dyrk? Have you been able to secure a source of fuel to keep the reactor running?”
Dyrk’s eyebrow rose, “Nope, but thankfully that’s not my job.”
“Enough,” Jarvis pounded the table with a fist. He took a deep breath and massaged his temples. While his fingers worked, Jarvis closed his eyes. “The two of you need to stop bickering and relax.” With a huff, he leaned back and sucked on his lower lip. He flipped a switch, and the small screen next to him activated. Jarvis flicked through the camera feeds and sighed as the crew tirelessly built the wall. “We’re not about to run out of fuel.”
“That’s only true if those monsters stop assaulting us.”
Jarvis deactivated the monitor and drummed his fingertips across the table. “Fenton, you are correct. If those assaults continue, we’ll deplete our reserves all too quickly.” His fingers continued drumming a march as he took a series of deep breaths. “And thanks to the logs you recovered, we’re aware of all the various creatures that might assault us.”
“All those entries do is detail how we are going to die.”
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Since I’ve used this site before to generate some interesting ideas, I clicked the Situation and Setting buttons and got the following:
The story begins in an abandoned warehouse.
Your character discovers some unpleasant truths.
With those two simple sentences, the beginnings of my drama unfolded in my mind. But it didn’t become clear until I created the cover image. With the location established, the tale flew from my fingertips. This story’s conflict boils down to an internal struggle for Nathan to reconcile his beliefs and unchanging facts. Sit down and get comfortable as we follow Nathan’s battle between facts that he perceived to be true and truths shoved into his face.
Nathan plowed through all the hints of his journey, and at the end he enters a dingy and dark warehouse to find a chair bathed in light…
Nathan’s fingers poked through the cobwebs clinging to the doorframe. He clenched his fist gripping the webs and tore them free. With the strands emerging from his grasp, Nathan kicked the door, sending it deeper into the shadows. As it dragged to a halt, he rubbed the clingy fibers between his palms as his eyes flittered about the towering and grimy walls. He tossed the ball of webbing onto the floor and rushed to the seat, bathed in sunlight.
As he approached, Nathan eyed the file resting on the cushion. He squatted in front of the chair and gawked at the full folder. Nathan took a deep breath through his fingers and shifted to his knees. He slid a finger into the packet and lifted the top. As his eyes tried to focus on the text, Nathan’s head whirled about, searching the darkened room.
While the hair on his neck jumped to attention, Nathan pulled the first piece of paper off the pile and sat down. After reading half of the sheet, Nathan hopped to his feet and yanked the dossier off the chair. Nathan paced about the shaft of sunlight, tearing through the packet and dropping each sheet as he finished it. When the last one flittered out of Nathan’s fingers, his knees buckled.
Footsteps sliced through the spacious building, echoing off the dingy walls.
Nathan lifted the folder and tossed it at the seat. As it sprawled open and drifted to the ground, Nathan rubbed his neck, “None of that propaganda can be true.”
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“Marcus is busy,” Vincent’s voice sliced through the wall. “You’ll have to come back later.”
“You’ve been saying that for more than a week,” a shrill reply chased Vincent’s words. “We are tired of waiting for him to disseminate his plans for our people.”
Marcus slipped his pad onto the desk and tucked the pen behind his ear. He rested his chin upon his thumbs and watched the door creep inward. Vincent’s head poked through the opening while he licked his lips. “Boss, there are a handful of complainers here, and they’re demanding you take some time out of your day to speak with them concerning their future.”
Marcus laid his hands on the desk and pursed his lips. He glared at the door and blew out a long breath as he slumped into his seat. Marcus stared at the ceiling, clicked his tongue and bit his lower lip, “I suppose I should deal with Kethra’s lingering lieutenants.”
With a nod, Vincent vanished as he pulled the door. However, before it could latch, something flung it open, letting a trio march into the office.
Marcus’s eyes widened as he examined the three strangers. He raised his hands and forced his mouth to curl upward, “Hello, Roxanne, how are you doing?”
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To continue reading the story, click here to head over to Wattpad.
This past week’s art is a wonderful example of that development. So, sit back and enjoy the artwork below. And as always, click on any image below to get a better look at the pictures.
]]>Sit back and enjoy the artwork below and as always, click on any image below to get a better look at the picture.
]]>Sit back and enjoy the artwork below and as always, click on any image below to get a better look at the picture.
]]>“I can read your profile from now until the day I die, Annabelle.” Caitlin lowered the pad into her lap as she huffed. She bounced the tablet against her desk and thumped it onto the table. “Unfortunately, this doesn’t tell me anything about who you are.”
“What would you like to know?”
Caitlin’s fingers locked together, forming a temporary bed for her head. Her eyes flicked to the entrance and lingered on the individual standing in the doorway. She raised her hand and signaled the man to wait. And in a fluid motion, she propped her chin against her knuckles. “Anabelle, why are you following in my footsteps? Politics is a tiring endeavor. Wouldn’t you be happier doing something far simpler with your life?”
“Excuse me?” Annabelle ran a fingertip across her lips. “Why are you worried about my motives?”
“A person’s motivations tell the most about a person and their choices.” Caitlin pulled her hands away from her face and smiled. “And I’m curious about what drove you here?”
“Excuse me, Caitlin, but I can’t believe your replacement in the Auroran triumvirate is the most pressing issue on your agenda.”
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With the basic outline of this crew’s story entrenched in my mind, the meat of the tale flew from my fingertips. As the last words of the first draft tumbled out of me, I leaned back in my chair and smiled. It had been more than a year since I visited this ship and its crew, and I enjoyed the journey. After finalizing the story, I’m excited to continue delving through the adventures of Shaw’s crew. Sit down and get comfortable as we follow the Scythe as it attempts to bypass a blockade.
Daniel and his crew are running cargo for their employer, but they need to slip through a world ship’s blockade to deliver the cargo…
“We won’t get through this blockade.”
Daniel gripped the entrance to the cockpit and smiled as he leaned through the opening. He reached inside and activated the nearest comm. “Franco, stop being so dour and pessimistic. You need to focus on keeping my engines running smoothly.”
“You know he’s not entirely wrong,” Cecil said as he twisted about in his chair. He waggled a finger at Daniel as his lips tugged into a smirk. “In fact, I’ll be willing to bet you one hundred credits that we don’t get through without some kind of trouble.”
“Considering that our success depends on you completing your part to perfection,” Daniel released the doorframe and crossed the tiny room to grab Cecil’s chair. “I wouldn’t want to encourage you to fail.”
Laurie snorted as she glanced over her shoulder.
“Do you have something to add,” Daniel said, gripping her seat.
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Darren’s head whipped toward the opening cafeteria door. He held his cup of tea under his nose and took a deep breath of the fragrant drink, as he watched Maxwell walk into the cafeteria with a strange woman. Darren lowered his mug and gripped Lia’s forearm. “Did the Academy get another student or has Maxwell started dating?”
“What?” Lia closed her book onto her forefinger and licked her lips. “I have heard no gossip concerning a fresh face.” Lia shrugged, tapping the table, “I also didn’t think Maxwell cared about women.”
Darren shook his head and sipped his tea. “Max definitely prefers to throw himself into his studies.”
When Maxwell’s eyes found Darren, he spun around, retreating from the dining complex. But the stout woman’s hand shot out and snatched his wrist, pulling him to a halt. She turned to the food and dragged a struggling Maxwell toward it. Once there, she released Maxwell’s arm and grabbed a plate. She pressed it against her chest with a forearm and squeezed his shoulders, whispering something into his ear. Reluctantly Maxwell reached out and lifted a dish from the stack.
With a chuckle, Darren pointed at the pair, “Whoever she is, that woman can handle Maxwell.”
Lia’s eyes widened as she twisted in her seat. Leaning against the chair, Lia watched the pair pile steak and vegetables onto their plates before turning back to Darren with a broad grin. She wrapped her hands around her own mug and her smile wavered.
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Finishing goals is important. It gives you a sense of accomplishment and drives you toward your upcoming objective, if you craft these mini goals to inch you toward your ultimate destination. It doesn’t matter if they seem insignificant at first. In the long run, a home’s foundation seems boring and unimportant, but without a firm base every building will collapse.
My abstract work may appear to stray away from my ambition of drawing my characters, but each piece allows me to explore various tools of my collection of digital drawing applications. And sometimes my works in progress spark my desire to learn additional features. When I created the effect of Disintegrating Spheres, I used a built-in brush of Infinite Painter that I haven’t seen elsewhere. Now I’ve dipped my toe into creating digital brushes, but it’s become a new mini goal.
Sit back and enjoy the artwork below and as always, click on any image below to get a better look at the picture.
]]>With that epiphany, the broad strokes of the story instantly solidified. Given that Jessica was coming to play in Kyle’s story, I knew he needed to win this round. But how was I going to set the stage? After some thought and debate, I set the stage for their first of many interactions. Since both Kyle and Jessica are central characters in their own series, this story needed to highlight their skills. With that piece dropped into place, the story flew from my fingers.
With the story finished, I needed a title. And as I thought about it, my mind latched onto something I heard in my younger days. The phrase, opposite sides of the same coin, is an excellent way to understand dual. It’s also the perfect way to describe Kyle and Jessica. Sit down and get comfortable as we follow the first meeting of Kyle and Jessica.
A local company hires Insight Investigations to assist the police in apprehending a thief that broke into one of their laboratories…
“Get this door open!”
Kyle folded his arms across his chest and bounced his heel against the wall. He dropped his gaze to the tile flooring and took a deep breath through his nose. “Jacob, Atoxa sealed the entire floor.” He tapped the solid sheet of steel and smiled at the other officers, “Whoever Atoxa locked up isn’t going anywhere.”
The officer’s eyes narrowed. He marched to Kyle and grabbed the detective’s collar, pulling him toward his face. “You did not vow to protect this city, so please explain why we have to suffer your presence?”
“You’re right, I didn’t,” Kyle peeled Jacob’s fingers off his shirt and shoved him. “Fortunately, I have common sense.” He looked at his hand and rubbed his thumb across his fingertips. “And since people cannot walk through walls, we don’t have to worry about losing the thief.”
“That’s not the point!” The officer stalked back to the door, pounding it with his palm.
Kyle shook his head and pulled a radio to his lips, “What’s the status of the steel doors?”
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“It’s amazing what Liam’s been able to achieve in such a short amount of time.”
Rylan dropped his menu onto his plate and lowered Annabelle’s. “While his choices appeared to be random at first, the people Liam’s placed into the government, have been strategic.”
Annabelle unrolled the napkin, freeing the utensils, and laid them on the table. She dabbed her mouth with the ornate cloth before laying it across her lap. “Given that his colonization legislation was approved so quickly, that much is obvious. Are we going to be able to undo his recklessness?”
Rylan raised a finger, and their waiter hurried over. The man deposited a plate of sliced bread and a carafe of oil between them, “Are you ready to order?”
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To continue reading the story, click here to head over to Wattpad.
While most (if not all) drawing software has a plethora of tools, the liquify one seems to be a common utility. And it’s one that I really enjoy exploring. There is something therapeutic about using the tool to turn some rough lines into a piece of artwork that I’m proud to share with the world. In fact, I need to be careful not to forget about doodling or my goal of drawing characters because of how soothing it is.
To that end, I’ve been going through a course that I purchased on Udemy and it has been eye opening. With the lessons I’m learning etched into my mind, I draw every day. And with each drawing, even the abstract ones, my drawing muscles and creative eye improve. Sit back and enjoy the artwork below and as always, click on any image below to get a better look at the picture.
]]>With the structure for my story set, I needed some characters to fill it with, and it didn’t take me long to come up with the protagonist. Bounty Hunters are cool. Case in point, check out Mando in the Mandalorian or Boba Fett in the Empire Strikes Back and Return of the Jedi. Yes, their armor makes them more imposing, but they are stoic and ooze cool confidence. Thankfully, mages and dragons have a similar gravitas to that resilient metal. It didn’t take long to connect some dots and have a sub-par mage turn to collecting bounties to pay the bills. Sit down and get comfortable as we follow this hunter as he closes in on his target.
A bounty hunter heads into Dodge City on his dragon, and heads for the nearest saloon. With his Winchester he barges in seeking his mark…
“Why do they always decide to run?” Samuel squeezed his legs, spurring his dragon to greater speeds. The wind buffeted Samuel as the world beneath him blurred with each stroke of his dragon’s wings. As they neared the river, Samuel rubbed his ride’s rough hide as he inched up her back. He pulled on the reins and pressed a hand against her neck, “Take us down, Pearl.”
With a guttural growl, the snow-white dragon sliced through the air, plummeting to the earth. Just before Pearl collided with the rushing rapids, her body writhed, keeping them out of the water. A handful of strokes later, Samuel tugged the line, pulling Pearl into a gentle turn to follow the winding waterway.
He squeezed his legs, and Pearl flapped her mighty wings, propelling them into Dodge City. Samuel pushed against Pearl’s shoulder blades and she drifted lower, skimming the tops of the buildings. He guided Pearl down the street, bringing her to a hover in front of a saloon. Samuel pressed against her neck, and she landed. He took off his leather cap and let the sunlight bathe his face.
Samuel reached under his shirt and pulled out a charm. He patted it against his chest and grabbed his rifle. He hopped off Pearl’s back and laid his weapon’s barrel against his shoulder, while he examined the surroundings. Samuel glared at the entrance as he drew his revolver, letting the comfortable weight reassure him. Taking a deep breath, Samuel holstered his pistol and kicked the door open. He rushed in as his Winchester’s sights fluttered about those gathered inside.
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A shot whizzed over Fenton’s head, driving him to the ground. His lips curled into a snarl as his head whipped up, “Why are you firing at friendlies?”
“Sorry about that Fenton, it’s been hectic since you left.”
Fenton climbed to his feet and brushed the dirt off his clothing. He waved his squad on and resumed his jog. “Exactly how hectic was it since we left?”
“Nothing all that glamourous,” Jarvis answered as Fenton’s squad spilled out into the makeshift compound. “But we need to talk.” Without another word, Jarvis spun around and marched up the ramp. “Everyone else needs to join the effort to build the wall around this vessel. Use any materials you can find.”ac
Rubbing his temples vigorously, Fenton followed his commander into the ship. “Why does it feel as if you’re about to drop several bombshells?”
“Because you’re astute.” At the top of the ramp, Jarvis hurried into the chamber and claimed the closest seat. He pulled a tablet off the table, offering it to Fenton, “I believe you mentioned a storage assembly.”
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With each piece, even my more abstract ones, my drawing muscles and creative eye improve. Sit back and enjoy the artwork below and as always, click on any image below to get a better look at the picture.
]]>“Wake up, Marcus! The train’s pulling into the station,” a rumbling voice bellowed.
Marcus rubbed an eyebrow as he pushed himself into a sitting position. He folded his hands in his lap while he stared out the window. “Vincent, have you been out here before?”
“I’m not so foolish as to voluntarily interact with a region full of Kethras.”
Laughter bubbled out of Marcus as he rose and pulled a parcel off the rack. He dropped it into the booth and stretched his sides, “That’s exactly the reason Talia and I avoided this stretch of the railroad. It’s also why I insisted on all of you joining me on this trip.”
“Is our job, simply to be your buffer?”
As the train coasted to a stop, Marcus withdrew his gun, cracked it open, and poured the ammunition into his palm. He scrunched his face and shoved the shells into his pocket and pulled a bullet from a pouch on his waist, and grinned as he slipped it into a chamber. A sorrowful smile formed as he continued to pull rounds from the sack. When he thrust the last one into the handgun, Marcus closed it and returned it to its holster. Marcus’s grin gained some warmth as he touched the pistol, “It’s also the reason I brought all the lizard killer bullets I could get my hands on.”
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Posted by ElfWatcher.com on Friday, January 31, 2020
“My army surrendered!?” Namen slammed his fist against his thrown and snarled. “What did my cowardly force do after they laid down their weapons to these rebels?”
The messenger’s hands trembled behind his back as his stoic face locked onto the King’s ornate chair. He bowed, spreading his arms out like a flying bird. “I wasn’t there to witness the results, sire. I only had the message I was dispatched with. Do you want me to discover the fallout of the surrender?”
“No, there’s nothing you can accomplish,” the King grumbled as he crumpled the missive in his fist. He flung the wadded paper at the messenger’s face, “Kameron will locate these traitors!”
The messenger ducked the parchment projectile, while an advisor sitting close to the King interlaced her fingers and cleared her throat. “Your majesty, I believe it would be best to collect any information that Baxter has before deciding on how to deal with these deserters. What good would it do to send another battalion if the rebels have captured the nearest keep?”
The King’s eyes narrowed as his lips trembled. His white fingers rose from the inlaid wooden armrest, curling into a fist. “Speaking with Baxter is troublesome enough during times of peace. During war, it’s difficult to take him seriously while he is talking with his agents.”
“Baxter’s unique.” The advisor smiled and leaned closer to the king, “But he is the best spymaster this nation has ever wielded.”
“I’m aware of that, Kerri!” Namen struck the table with both meaty fists. “But I won’t deal with him, if he’s communicating with his spies. You go discover everything he has learned about these rebels and traitors.”
Kerri rose, inclining her head, and flowed across the floor. She grabbed the messenger’s arm and guided him from the meeting hall. When the door closed, she spun the fool around and slapped his face. “Why did you bring that message directly to Namen?”
The messenger’s eyes hardened into daggers as his fingers explored his reddening cheek, “It’s my job. The last time I checked, you’re simply an advisor.” He gripped his hands behind his back while his mouth twisted into a smirk. “How would Namen react if he learned you struck one of his messengers? I believe he’s given orders to protect people carrying his commands.”
“True,” Kerri flicked the messenger’s nose as her lips parted, displaying her canines. “Unfortunately, for you, Namen didn’t give you the protection of a command.” She thumped his chest with two fingers, “Never forget who your friends are, messenger.” Kerri spun on her heels and stormed down the hall. When she reached a stairwell, she sighed and flew up the stairs.
Upon reaching the door to the roof, she flung it open and stared at the man standing on the ledge, obscured by flapping butterflies. One landed on an outstretched fingertip, and he pulled it to his ear. She cleared her throat and marched toward him, “Baxter, I need to speak with you.”
Baxter raised his other hand and brandished a finger at the interloper. When the butterfly launched from his finger, he turned around and bowed deeply. “To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit, Kerri?”
“Have your little,” Kerri began as she gestured at the swarming butterflies. “Eyes and ears heard anything about the incident near the border with the Western Kingdom?”
The man spun and inclined his head as another butterfly landed on his shoulder and inched closer to his ear. “My agents flutter all over the world, gathering everything they see and hear.” His mouth curled as he folded his hands together. “However, since you’re aware of my reach, I’ll presume you want specifics.” He touched a finger to his lips and smiled warmly. “Should I assume Namen wishes to learn the fate of the soldiers who surrendered to the rebel horde?”
Kerri winced as she straightened her shoulders, “That is an answer he’s seeking.”
The spymaster placed his finger next to the butterfly on his shoulder, and it crept along its length. Baxter’s hand drifted to his eyes as he studied the wings of the creature. Baxter raised it, allowing the rest of his minions to flutter about it. “A force three times the battalion’s size ambushed and surrounded our soldiers.”
“The rebels outnumbered us?”
Baxter tossed the butterfly into the air. “I’m only telling you what has passed on to me, but that’s why they surrendered. However, before you condemn them, know that after surrendering, most have already regrouped. They’ve been scavenging what they can from the land to harry the massive force trying to sweep through the kingdom.”
“What’s coming our way?”
“The rebels have harnessed, orcs, goblins, and even some trolls.” Baxter raised a finger as another messenger flitted to the perch. He brought the butterfly up to his ear and translated the message. “They’re within a week’s march of Colvin’s Keep. His current defenses will fall unless the King can bolster their walls with a pair of battalions.”
“What about the passes that don’t cross Colvin’s lands?”
Baxter tossed the insect back into the air. “My informants have found no other military groups encroaching upon the king’s territories.” Another of his spies landed on his shoulder, and Baxter raised a hand. “At least nothing at present. The King will be the first person I contact if that changes. Now, I’d suggest that you tell Namen about the force marching towards Colvin’s Keep. If it falls, there’s nobody to stop these monsters from bringing death and destruction.” He turned and lifted his arm, displaying half a dozen butterflies perched there. “And while I can detail the devastation, I’m unable to halt this avalanche.”
Kerri bit her lip, spun around, grabbed the door’s handle, and opened it, finding Namen on the other side. “Sire, the spymaster has grim news concerning Colvin’s Keep.”
Namen snarled and marched down the stairs, his voice thundering through the palace. “Kameron, I have need of your magical abilities!”
]]>Unfortunately, it’s screaming that most of the features that my creative side considers black boxes aren’t to other artists. Most of them could probably teach courses on each of those mysterious pieces of functionality. With every use of the collected tools in my toolbox, my knowledge increases. And that’s where my inner developer screams because my understanding of how the tools work stubbornly refuses to grow. To placate that loud inner voice, I’ve purchased a course from Udemy that promises to answer some of those questions.
While I search for those answers, sit back and enjoy the artwork below. As always, click on any image below to get a better look at the picture.
]]>It kept me ahead of schedule for January. At no point, was I frantic and/or desperate to finish my work at the last minute. While Hidden Truths and Arrogance flowed easily from my mind, it was nice to have the time to allow a reluctant story, like Cruel Exchange, to blossom into a moving narrative. Typically, I prefer blatantly dropping multiple hints to the time-period for my historical fiction, but with the makeup of this tale, I resorted to subtle hints. Sit down and get comfortable as we follow this mystery man as he strolls through his property under the dim starlight.
A man wanders his orchard at night, while carrying a shovel and obsessing over a locket. What secrets is the stranger bearing in the dark…
John’s eyes whirled in every direction as he strolled through the orchard. He stopped alongside a tree, laying his head against it while his shovel slid through his fingers, its tip slammed into the tightly packed earth. A tear swelled at the corner of his eye, while John pulled a small locket from his pocket and studied it in the dim starlight. The intricately etched metal caught the faint light and amplified the stray beams, throwing them back at John.
He whirled the chain around his hand until the heart-shaped jewelry slammed against his palm. His fingers clenched about the precious charm as he pressed his thumb against the nascent tear, smothering it out of existence. John shut his eyes and slipped the locket into his pocket. With a sharp inhalation, John’s furtive gaze scanned the open glade over a hunching shoulder as he marched farther into the forest. With each step, the shadows intensified, swallowing him away from the sparse light.
Despite the darkness, John deftly strode between the trees, ducking under stray branches and stepping over jutting roots while letting his fingers trace each trunk. When he felt the gap of a carving, John froze, and the shovel slipped from his quivering grip, bouncing off the ground. The ensuing silence intensified as he dropped to his knees while his fingertips explored the marred surface of the towering tree.
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Olyver threw the Chairman’s doors open and stormed inside, rushing to Caitlin. He ignored Quinn and slammed a tablet onto her desk. “What’s the meaning of this?!”
Quinn leaned over and plucked the pad up and skimmed through the file. He handed it to Caitlin and crossed his legs, placing his hands on his thigh. “That’s a document stipulating the Federation’s plans to shift our focus from colonization to defense.”
“I wasn’t talking to you,” Olyver whirled toward Quinn, jabbing his finger against the man’s chest. “You would do well not to interrupt important conversations.”
“You’re bruising the vice chairman of the new federation.” Caitlin moved the pad to the edge of her desk and placed her chin into her palm, taking a deep breath. “You realize that what you just did can be construed as assault. I recommend you control yourself, unless you prefer security forcibly dragging you out and throwing you out on your butt.”
Olyver straightened as rage and frustration rippled across his face. He took several breaths, grabbed a chair, dragged it over to the desk, and dropped into it. “Caitlin, we had an arrangement to focus our resources and efforts into expanding this new federation.”
“No,” Caitlin answered. “You may have believed that we came to that agreement, but we never did.” Caitlin lifted a small stylus and twirled it in her fingers. “My primary concern has always been the safety of this fledgling alliance of planets. And before we rush into the unknown, we’re going to build a proper military to protect the citizens who want to establish themselves on distant worlds.”
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This time, I wanted to continue that story, highlighting the division between the ruling council and the rest of the world. To accomplish that goal, I needed a reason for a Shifter to interact with a Hunter. It didn’t take me long to connect a few dots and have a Shifter stumble upon a Hunter who subdued Tiatha. I also didn’t forget the sorceress’s personal history. Sit down and get comfortable as we delve into the mixed feelings between the Hunters and the rest of the world.
A Shifter ambles into a glade and interrupts an intruder from completing his task. Upset at the interruption, the Hunter lashes out…
As a bear nudged through foliage and entered a clearing, a man in the middle of it whirled around. He glowered at the intruding animal while crackling blue energy emanated from his hand. The individual clenched his fingers, extinguishing the glow as he walked toward a lump. “Tiatha did a number on me. I can’t believe a stupid beast freaked me out.”
“Are you a Hunter?”
Lighting crackled around the invader as he rolled away from the strange mound and oriented on the source of the question. He glared at the bear and hopped to his feet, forcing the energy to coalesce into his open palm. He inched towards the massive animal, “Are you a shifter?”
The brown fur shortened as the creature rose to its hind legs and stepped out of the tree line. Folding his arms across his arm, the shifter sighed, “Despite my transformation, I asked you a question first?”
The stranger’s face curdled, “Step away before you make a mistake.”
The shifter’s eyes flashed with rage as they flicked to the lump. With a grumble, he walked toward it, glaring at the Hunter, “Call me Lander.”
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Silence thundered throughout the stairwell as Maxwell pulled the door open. He hung in the doorway, taking several deep breaths as his eyes flitted about the darkened rooms nearby. Maxwell swallowed a lump as the stillness loomed over him. He released the handle and rubbed the back of his neck as he entered the hallway. “Why would anyone choose to live alone?”
Silence answered Maxwell’s musing as he strolled down the hall. When he approached Darren’s room, Maxwell heard voices creeping out from under Darren’s door. Maxwell licked his lips and inched closer to Darren’s room.
“I need you to come into the city tomorrow night,” a mysterious voice demanded.
Maxwell stopped and examined the empty corridor before pressing his ear against the door.
Laughter died off as Darren replied, “You’ll have to wait a few days. My professors have piled an enormous amount of work onto my plate and they won’t let me leave to support your latest endeavor.”
Thud!
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Then I dove into a name generator and started selecting a series of names for the characters. Once I had a list of four names, the story leapt to the forefront of my mind. The rough outline for the piece flew from my fingertips, and with each pass over the narrative I refined it until I was ecstatic with the story. Sit down and get comfortable as we follow Randy and Cedric and their search of the abandoned hotel.
Randy and Cedric are searching an abandoned hotel for their boss’s missing gemstones. Will they uncover the stash that Isabella left with…
Randy’s eyes rose over the counter, and they flitted between the cobwebs, falling ceiling tiles, and cracked walls. He leaned down and blew the dust off the concierge’s bell. Randy’s head whipped about as he inched out from behind the front desk, scratching his ear. “Where did that woman hide the boss’s stuff?”
“You didn’t think she’d make it easy for us, did you?”
Randy lifted a brass canister, turning it upside down, and threw it across the foyer. As it clanged against the floor, Randy kicked the upended trash. “Cedric, we’ve searched the entire hotel, and the only thing we have accomplished is to waste our time.”
“Why do you constantly overreact?” Cedric snapped his fingers and sauntered down the stairs. “We entered the building about ten minutes ago.”
With a dismissive wave of his hand, Randy hustled to a side door, flinging it open. He stepped inside, placed the bell on the cabinet, and pulled his phone out, activating its flash. “We’ve been scouring this place for longer than that. Can’t you let me complain?”
“No, because our business here wasn’t our choice.”
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Rylan hobbled out of the hospital, clutching the edges of his coat in a fist. He scrutinized the nearby vehicles as a shudder thundered down his spine, “Are we walking home?”
“Don’t be dramatic.” Annabelle stepped beside Rylan, wrapping an arm around him.
As his shoulders quivered, Rylan tried breaking her grip with his waist.
“Knock it off!” Annabelle stared daggers into Rylan’s eyes and tightened her grasp. “You’re going to accept my help.”
Rylan coughed into his elbow and nodded. As the coughing ceased, he gripped her fingers, “Fine, where’s our transportation?”
“It isn’t far,” Annabelle pulled Rylan’s arm around her shoulders and guided him down the street. After a few steps, she released his wrist and pointed down the road. “Can you see the dark green one? It’s only three cars down.”
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“Fenton, where are you all?”
“We are heading back to camp.” The squadron leader clamped a hand on his radio and signaled his team to stop. “Jarvis, unless you’re planning on diverting us to investigate another mystery, learn how to relax.”
“Why would I divert you when your report is still missing?”
Fenton studied the members of his squad as he rubbed his lips. With a twirl of his fingers, they resumed marching, “We’re heading back from the ruins.”
“Why are you all dragging out this quick jaunt?”
“Did Jarvis actually say that?”
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Nathaniel drummed his fingers against the table’s edge as his scowl deepened. With quivering lips, Nathaniel thrust a finger towards Kethra, “Would you stop dragging this meeting out and vote already?”
“We’re not finished discussing the issue.”
Nathaniel slammed his hand against the table, “If you’re not going to vote, we’re done.”
Kethra’s mouth twisted into a sneer, while her fingers tightened around her riding crop. She bit down on her trembling lip as her fingertips turned white. She ripped her gaze away from Nathaniel and scanned the other leaders, “I have the right to argue my point.”
Bang!
All eyes whipped toward the source, finding Marcus leaning against the table.
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With the rough idea in mind, I dropped myself into a comfortable chair and watched Roland seek his friend. I leaned upon Darren’s tendency to isolate himself in his home and conduct experiments (one of which might be the basis of my next fantasy selection for Patreon) and Roland’s desire to drag Darren out of his comfort zone. Sit down and get comfortable as we delve into the crux of the issue between Darren and Roland.
Follow Roland as he searches for Darren’s home in the middle of a forest. Once located, Roland tries to drag Darren out of his isolation…
Roland stormed through the forest, his scowl deepening as he punched a tree. He sucked his lips into his mouth and pounded his fist against the rough bark, “Darren, where are you? And why can’t you live in the city?!” As Roland’s words echoed throughout the trees, he stalked to another one. “Ditch the wilderness and find someplace sensible to call home!”
Darren shoved his door open and grinned at Roland’s back. He stepped through and smirked, “Roland, you passed me.” Darren jerked his hand toward the opening. “You’ve been here often enough. Can’t you keep it straight?”
A pent-up breath thundered out of Roland’s nostrils as he spun around. While his fingers curled into fists and his eyebrows pressed together, Roland stalked towards Darren’s house. “Why do you insist on living in the middle of nowhere?”
Darren patted the doorframe, “Don’t insult my place.”
“You live in a tree,” Roland stopped in front of Darren, and his eyes threatened to set the forest ablaze. Roland reached out and thumped Darren’s chest, “You’ve lived in the city before. Why did you decide to call this massive trunk in the wilderness home?”
Darren stepped aside and ushered Roland into his house, “I’m happy here.”
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Quinn rested his hands on the conference table, and his eyes traveled from person to person until his gaze fell to Caitlin. “Well, now that Olyver has arrived. I believe we can resume our discussion from yesterday.”
“This day has been a long time coming,” Olyver focused his sneer upon his fellow triumvir as his fingers drummed along his biceps. “But yes, let us formalize this Federation with the colonies we’ve established.”
The bulky man across from Quinn cleared his throat and lifted a finger. “Point of clarification,” He leaned against the table, and it creaked, “Before anyone left this planet, we agreed that none of the new planets would be considered a colony.”
“Quite right, Bartholomew,” Caitlin replied, wringing her fingers while smiling at each of the assembled leaders. “It was a slip of the tongue. I can speak for every triumvir. We never have, nor will we ever consider any of your homes, colonies of this federation. In fact, that’s one of the key points of this meeting.” Caitlin rose and clutched her hands behind her, and started circling the gathered throng. “Before anyone leaves this chamber, we’ll have an agreement to enforce an equal footing in this alliance.”
The woman sitting to Bartholomew’s right turned and gripped Caitlin’s hand. “To achieve that, we’ll require a centralized government that can step in and ensure that each planetary regime plays by the rules.”
“That’s part of the reason we’re gathered here, Kerri.” Caitlin patted the woman’s forearm, gripping it tightly. “Specifically, with this discussion,” Caitlin pulled Kerri’s hand off her wrist and resumed her walk around the table. “With our efforts, the tragic loss of our homeworld will be transformed into a glorious new beginning.”
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Rylan’s eyes fluttered as he inched his head about. He caught sight of Annabelle sleeping in a chair beside him, and he struggled to reach out and touch her dangling leg, but his arm wouldn’t obey. When he flexed his fingers, Rylan started coughing. Reflexively, Annabelle’s hand stretched out and gripped Rylan’s. He grasped her fingertips, and Annabelle went rigid as her eyelids snapped open.
Annabelle bent down, jamming the call button as she kissed his forehead. Her hands caressed his cheeks as a tear tumbled from her eye. “You’re finally awake!”
Rylan inched his head and coughed, mouthing drink.
Annabelle leapt to her feet, grabbing the cup, and dashed for the sink. She shoved the mug under the faucet, and a stream of water flowed. When her fingers felt the liquid spilling over the rim, she scurried back to his bed and eased the straw into Rylan’s mouth. “Don’t gulp it down.” While Rylan sipped the drink, Annabelle brushed his hair from his face. “You gave all of us a scare.”
As more coughing filled the room, nurses rushed inside like a flock of birds. One pulled Annabelle away from her husband’s side and took the cup from her. “We’ll let you rejoin him after we check him out. Has he spoken?”
Annabelle covered her mouth with her hands while she shook her head.
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A man on crutches silently stares at his foreclosed home on Christmas Eve. A stranger intrudes upon his misery as tears swell in his eye…
A gray-haired man limped across the snow on his crutches to a sign. He leaned against them and reached out to lift the plastic foreclosure notice. A tear ran down his cheek and tumbled to the ground. The soft powder swallowed the droplet as he dropped the notification. He gripped his supports and inched to the stairs leading up to the door.
“It’s a shame that the owner lost such a beautiful home.”
The man turned and found an average gentleman bundled in a puffy winter coat. “Do you make a habit of bothering complete strangers?”
He chuckled and pulled a glove off, and with a warm smile, he offered the limping man his hand. “I’m sorry, sir, my name’s Jacob, and I thought you were looking for company.”
“What made you think that?”
Jacob sighed as he put his glove on while the hobbling man spun back to the house. “You’re an injured man standing in the snow and staring at a foreclosure notice on Christmas Eve. It’s obvious you are upset, and I suspect you were friends with the homeowner?”
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“Have you met the newest student to grace the Academy?”
Darren slumped into the chair and ran a fork through his food. He scooped up a forkful and lifted it to his lips, but groaned and dropped the utensil. Darren shoved the dish toward the center of the table. “Wayne, I’m fairly certain we agreed that you wouldn’t bug me,” his eyes flicked up, “ever.”
Wayne smirked and slid into a seat across from Darren. “We arranged nothing of the sort.” He snatched a piece of toast and took a mouthful. Wayne laid the bread down, positioned a steaming glass under his nose, and peered over the rim. “Though with effort, I seem to remember you mumbling something about that nonsense. But since we’re family, I assumed I was supposed to ignore those musings.” He scooted closer and tightened his grip upon the cup.
As steam wafted into Wayne’s face, he took a deep breath. “However, that’s a matter for future discussion.” Wayne sipped his drink and laid it down, “For now, answer the question.”
“Wayne, we’ve discussed this relentlessly,” Darren rose, grabbing his plate and mug. “Despite being roommates and family, the idea of being around you makes me sick.”
“She’s a gorgeous elf.”
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I’m taking a little liberty with the location aspect of the prompt, shifting the tale to the aquarium’s parking lot. But I wove the object into the story without issue. Once placed into the constraints, the first draft flowed effortlessly from my fingertips. And after working through the drafts of the original outline, I believe Die Hard in an aquarium parking lot is born. Sit down and get comfortable as we delve into the story.
Jessie comes to a local aquarium in the hopes of freeing someone important to him. Unfortunately, it requires him to betray someone else…
When the car rolled to a stop alongside the curb, Jessie threw the vehicle into park and withdrew the key. Jessie’s fingers rubbed the stubble lining his chin as his gaze drifted from the aquarium’s sign to the people meandering about the abandoned lot. He tapped a finger against the steering wheel as he pulled himself out and strolled to the trunk.
Jessie opened it and reached down, jostling the bound and gagged man lying on the spare tire. “We’re here, Christian, and it’s time you provide the service I require.”
The hogtied individual grunted and pushed himself away from the opening.
However, Jessie’s thick fingers hauled Christian from the shadows of the trunk, placing him on his feet. Jessie gripped Christian’s shoulder and nudged him into everyone’s view. “It would be a real shame if we couldn’t finish our arrangement.”
“Are you threatening him?”
Jessie shoved the barrel of a gun into Christian’s back as his mouth curled into a half smile. “I was talking to whatever minions and lackeys you have holed up on the aquarium’s roof.”
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Fenton peered around a tree trunk, leveling his rifle at the ruins in the clearing. He dropped his eye to his scope and studied the damaged structures. With a few adjustments, the distant images snapped into focus, pulling a curse from his lips. He touched the comm jutting from his ear and slid to the ground. “Everyone fall in on my signal, double time.”
Rolling to a knee, Fenton examined the crumbling walls. As the silence lingered, he spun away from the devastation and sat down to watch his squad’s arrival. When the last member of the squadron approached, Fenton rose and wiped his face. “Anyone discover anything dangerous during the brief walk?”
“We…” Shandri gasped, “need to correct Diana’s definition of that term.”
“Be quiet!” Fenton jerked his thumb at the ruins. “What oddities did we encounter?” After a series of negatives rang out, Fenton nodded. “No matter, I’m sure Jarvis is already cataloging whatever wildlife we missed.” He shouldered his rifle and walked through the trees toward the ragged structure. “Let’s hustle over there and explore the remains of our ancestors’ colony.”
“What are we looking for?”
Fenton snickered as his eyes studied the path. “Brianna, I thought our mission was self-evident.” He patted a tree and smirked at the woman behind him. “We’re here to discover what happened to that outpost.”
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“What are you going to do now, Nathaniel?” Marcus asked as he rubbed his mare’s neck. “I mean, the bomb destroyed the last effort to escape this world.”
The gaunt leader shrugged his shoulders and slumped into the seat on Marcus’s porch.
Marcus laid the brush on his horse’s back and patted her haunches as he sauntered to his friend. He sat down on the steps as he pulled a cloth from his pocket and wiped his face. “You should learn to relax.”
“Are you kidding?”
“The explosion of the power cells was…” Marcus scratched his ears and looked away from Nathaniel.
“It’s okay Marcus, you don’t need to spare my feelings. It was an utter disaster.” Nathaniel slapped his thighs and ground his teeth. “One Kethra’s using to usurp control.”
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To further that goal, I’ve picked up some classes on Udemy.. While I have watched the vast majority of the videos and the core concepts make tremendous sense, my ability to draw realistic people (or objects) is still amateurish. The biggest takeaway from those courses is with the proper understanding of the rules anyone can produce quality artwork. With that said, I’m not discounting talent. There are natural artists in the world, and they’re capable of making truly amazing pieces of art. However, someone blessed with buckets of artistic skill but doesn’t put in the work will always be bested by a talentless individual who dedicates themselves to their chosen craft.
Every time the sun comes up, I’m searching for opportunities to practice. Some days, I can find those precious minutes, others the skills are pushed to the wayside. And of course, as a digital packrat, I prefer crafting my art (written word or picture) on the screen over traditionally. An organized chaos is only the first of many advantages when working digitally. Despite being a developer (and network administrator) in my day job, I’ve had no real reason to explore the features of applications like Photoshop, Krita, or Gimp. The lack of official training has never frightened me away from poking around an application to figure things out by trial and error.
The above image was one of the first random doodles I ever created. I used Krita, and even now, I couldn’t tell you how I stumbled upon the picture. But the doodling brought about something that I think is cool.
Unfortunately, there is a limited amount of time in a day. As a result, some things get the short end of the stick, and much to my dismay, my drawing falls through my fingers, though I’m hoping to change that. This past weekend, I opened my digital art application and made some doodles. These pictures serve two purposes, the first the abstract nature of them allows my creativity to spiral out in another direction, and that’s never a bad idea. And second, I’ll delve into the ins and outs of Photoshop-like applications.
The above is one doodle I whipped up over the weekend. Making it was a blast, but the real reason I created the picture was to explore a couple utilities of the program. Thankfully, every piece of art software has a ton of tools to work with (which means tones of deep tunnels to scrutinize). They also are chasing after the single gold standard, Photoshop. So even though I’m studying a specific application, the knowledge gained will travel to about 80ish percent of other applications.
After rejuvenating myself with my doodles, I’m challenging myself to make one to two doodles a week. Besides learning my chosen piece of software, I think I’ve figured out my problem. I need to build up my drawing muscles. I am pretty sure that is my biggest hurdle, though it’s possible I’m merely fooling myself. Only time will tell. Over the next few weeks, I am going to figure out where the best place for these doodles will be, but that’s a problem I’m happy to have.
]]>With this being the 20th anniversary of Storm Front, Jim Butcher had been dropping little extras on his site via Dresden Drops. Toward the end of march, the Peace Talks trailer arrived as one of those drops. The short video served its purpose, stoking my desire to get my hands on the book. With the combination of the clip and the information that emerged on the web, fans knew the story would focus on the supernatural world attempting to achieve some semblance of peace. But the mini movie teased Thomas’s imprisonment and impending dooms. It also promised Harry’s involvement in rescuing his brother as a representative from the Winter Court.
I’ve seen some reviews of for Peace Talks that agree with my buddy’s assessment, mainly Peace Talks and Battle Ground being the same story. I cannot stand authors doing that. A storyline should either be self-contained in a single novel or advertised from the outset that the narrative would take place over multiple volumes. However, upon finishing the Peace Talks I understand that complaint, but I disagree. It’s all about understanding the primary conflict of the story. The chief plot of Peace Talks centers on Thomas and how his actions affect the supernatural negotiations. The reason people assume Battle Ground is the conclusion is because they latch onto the Peace Talks’s subplot, the peace summit. While the arcs mingle, if readers focus on the central storyline and they can enjoy Peace Talks as a standalone novel.
Chief among the side threads flowing through the tapestry of Dresden’s latest installment highlights the rocky standing between him and the White Council. That relationship has never been on a stable footing, despite him being a Warden. Aside from Dresden always doing what he believes is the right thing which puts him at odds with certain members of the Senior Council, he’s made choices that make his allegiance questionable. He has an obligation to Mab as the Winter Knight, and he appears to be friendly with the Wight Court of vampires. Peace Talks pits those relationships against the ones with the White Council and his fellow Wardens.
Because I was in the middle of another book, when Peace Talks came out, I didn’t finish the book until after Battle Ground’s release. Thankfully, it allowed me to roll right into the second Dresden book of the year. And it picks up where Peace Talks left off. While it was incredible that I did not have to wait for Battle Ground, I missed the trailer for the seventeenth book in the Dresden Files.
Despite having read the book, the official trailer got me pumped to re-read Battle Ground. From the opening sentence, Jim Butcher picks up the loose threads from Peace Talks and resumes weaving Dresden’s story. Over the course of the series, fans have been treated to some masterful displays of power by the various players in the supernatural world. But Battle Ground’s action puts everything done to this point to shame. Jim Butcher did an excellent job at guiding the events of the tale to keep the reader guessing.
I’m… going to have to play the cards really damned close to my chest, then.
If I were you, I’d hold them about three inches behind my sternum, just to be sure.
While they are part of an exchange from Skin Game, it pertains to how Jim Butcher revealed the plot’s twists to his audience. Despite being decent at spotting story line elements coming, there were surprises abound, both small and large. A fact that I’ve found consistently with each installment in The Dresden Files. The best part of the five-year delay is that we got the 16th and 17th novels in the same year. While I would have been okay waiting for a year or two, I’m glad we got both in the same year. And while people claim they should have been a single book, readers can enjoy each book independently of each other.
]]>Thankfully, that wasn’t my only success for the month. With focus and dedication, I finished my Patreon exclusives (Hearth, Strands, and Intuition) and published all five of my Wattpad stories, including Itinerary, the latest installment of Transformation.
The last time we visited the world of Aurora, Isaac groused about his relegation to a glorified taxi service. To cope with the depression, Isaac capitalized on his wager with Jasmine. But one night, before he could start claiming his prize, Quinn summons him for a meeting with the triumvirs. So, the salty pilot marches into their office to find himself alone with Quinn. Will Isaac suffer the wrath of the Triumvir? Or has Quinn convinced the other triumvirs to improve Isaac’s life?
The door swung open, and Isaac’s eyes crept into the triumvir’s office. He swept his gaze past Quinn, looking at Caitlin’s empty seat, and then he checked on Olyver’s chair. With a grin, Isaac slipped in, sealed the room, and leaned against the wall. “Should I worry about the missing members of the triumvirate for this meeting? Dare I hope for pleasant news?”
Quinn grinned as he collected a series of pads, “Take a load off.”
“Why am I here?” Isaac asked as he scurried toward the seat. Once within arm’s reach he gripped its back, as his eyes narrowed, “I feel like a raw recruit reporting for a reprimand.”
Quinn flicked his gaze up as he pointed at the armchair. “Would you just sit down?”
“I’d prefer you explain my summons.”
“We need to talk,” Quinn selected a pad and lifted it. “Now, take a seat and read this.”
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But when I sat down to work on this piece of flash fiction, I must have been channeling The Thin Man either that or Monk. Both of these fictional detectives, while wildly different in temperament, possess great intuition. And that’s the characteristic I believe most important for a detective. And as I transcribed the initial storyline, it’s obvious both investigators influenced that my protagonist. So, sit back and delve into this Historical Fiction taking place in a Jewelry Shop and featuring a Paint Roller.
Two detectives arrive at a jewelry store, but after making unrelated inquiries, the newest detective is ejected from the crime scene…
Denis watched his partner walk into the jewelry store. But instead of following him, the young investigator backed up a couple of steps and peered into the neighboring establishment. Denis pulled his notebook and pencil from his jacket and bounced the tip against the cover. He sucked his lips into his mouth and shook his head as he sauntered away from the pawn store’s entrance. He slipped into Jackson’s storefront and meandered down the shared wall.
The junior detective pushed through the throng of uniformed police officers, dismissing the broken glass. He walked behind the counter and knelt to examine the debris. He pulled his fingertip through the light coating and showed it to the others. “Has anyone examined the dust back here?”
“Denis, stop confusing them,” Denis’s partner snapped. “They’re aware of their responsibilities, now get over her and learn how to perform yours.”
“Yes, Ernest,” Denis wiped his finger on his pants and turned to examine the damaged case. Nestled between the glass shards and the remaining jewelry, Denis noticed white splotches. His arm split a pair of officers as he reached in, touching one of those discolored bits, and his fingertip slid across the wet surface. Dennis’s head whirled around, latching upon the owner. He ambled over while he waved his hand about the store, “Mr. Jackson, have you had painters in your establishment recently?”
“Denis!” Ernest slapped Denis’s arm down and stepped in front of the younger man. “I have to apologize for my partner’s impudence. He’s just become a detective, and with this kind of attitude, he won’t keep the promotion for long.” The senior detective spun about and loomed over his partner, “You’re done in here. Head outside and locate some witnesses.”
Dennis nodded and walked out of the store. He took a deep breath and glared at his stained finger. Denis looked over his shoulder and cracked the knuckles of his right hand. He ambled to the pawnshop’s entrance and entered, forcing a smile. Denis slipped the notepad into his jacket and strolled to the shared wall, finding a pair of painters packing up. He glanced at his fingertip, and hustled over to them, “Good afternoon, gentlemen, how’s it going?”
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Previously on Mounting Tensions, the protagonist from Fortunes is ambushed on a stroll through the city. Meanwhile, his father-in-law greats his daughter, wondering where Rylan is. The two share a brief conversation about the recent uptick in the beatings of the Traditionalist party while they wait for Rylan to return home. Will Rylan be brought home? Or has he become another statistic?
“Where is your better half?” Garvin asked, removing his jacket and folding it over the back of a chair. He sat down across from his daughter, rubbing his chin. “He was supposed to meet me here, so we could discuss some upcoming legislation.”
Annabelle dropped her hands into her lap as she slouched into the deep seat. “I’m not sure where he’s hiding.”
“Have you tried reaching out to him?”
“Twice so far,” Annabelle said through a series of sniffles. She pulled the pad from beside her and whimpered at the lack of messages. “It’s only troubling because of Rylan’s punctuality.”
Garvin took the device from her hands and placed it on the table. “Have you contacted the authorities?”
Annabelle shook her head as her fingernails dug into her arms. “Rylan must have gotten distracted with something more pressing. There’s no need to start a kerfuffle because he’s running late.”
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In the last installment of Darren’s Journey, we saw our young wizard in training playing a game with his classmates Maxwell and Norry. While the three friends played, the arrogant and annoying Wayne barged into their game and stirred the pot. Come delve into the aftermath of Wayne’s bombastic interruption.
As Darren climbed the stairs, he stretched his neck and rubbed his biceps. When he got to his floor, Darren sauntered to his door, pulling it open. He tossed his bag beside the bunk and collapsed face-first into the mattress while pulling a sheet over his head. “How was your day, Maxwell?”
A hand jostled Darren, saying, “We need to talk.”
With a groan, Darren flipped over and pushed himself up against the wall. He took in the packed bags on Maxwell’s bunk and bolted upright. He scooted to the edge of his bed and leaned over his knees, wringing his hands. “What’s going on?”
Maxwell grunted and sat down, patting the packs lying on the mattress. “I’m heading out.”
“You haven’t been expelled from the Academy, have you?”
An eyebrow climbed Maxwell’s face as he shook his head. “Life isn’t as dramatic as you make it out.”
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While Colonization is ultimately a tragedy, the exploration of the world and the characters that populated it was fun to craft. The moment I finished writing Closure, Colonization’s last entry, I started painting the broad strokes of the storyline that would become Discovery. Thankfully, just like with Colonization, only the beginning and end were written in stone. This series’s open-ended nature gave me a lot of room to explore a planet and people that wouldn’t get a chance otherwise.
Unlike the events of Landing on Morven, the ship in Awaiting Confirmation experiences no turbulence as it enters the planet’s atmosphere. The ship’s command crew locate the previous colonization ship and set a course to land on the planet. The moment the vessel lands, Jarvis assumes command of the expedition, and the crew disembarks and begins cataloging the wonders of the unknown world.
“That was one of the best landings I’ve ever had,” Dyrk said as he powered down the ship. He unbuckled and stretched his arms over his head. “After establishing base camp, what do you expect Jarvis’s first course of action will be?”
His co-pilot turned toward Dyrk, pulling her legs tightly into her chest. “We’re a good hike from the remains of the previous ship,” Diana drawled as she rubbed her chin. “I say it’s even odds between dispatching a team to explore that vessel or cataloging the local wildlife.”
“Let’s find out,” Dyrk shrugged and activated the internal comm. “Jarvis, as you can guess, we’ve touched down. However, that brings my expertise to a close. What’s first on my new agenda?”
“How far away is the missing ship?”
“It’s a bit of a stroll,” Diana replied as she worked at her console. When her fingers stilled, she leaned back as her mouth curled into a tight smile. “I’ve sent everything to your links. You can debate the distance shortly.”
The responding silence died with a curse from Jarvis, “In what special world is that considered a stroll? That stretch is the definition of a day’s march. Couldn’t you have gotten closer?”
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While the first piece is exclusive to my patrons, Darren’s main storyline is being published on Wattpad. But the stories I publish there aren’t able to quench my desire, so when a Fantasy comes up in the monthly pool, I explore Darren’s character more. These extra tales give more of an insight into Darren’s life, none of these will impact the central storyline that Journeys is exploring.
To add some extra flair to Darren’s side adventures, I pulled a prompt from NYC Midnight, meaning that Darren’s latest installment will take place in an art gallery and feature a spiderweb When I coupled those guidelines with last month’s tale my fingers struggled to keep up with the narrative’s flow. So, pull up a chair and head over to my Patreon page to become a patron and follow Darren as he tests his fate once more.
Having primed his stoolie, Darren visits a local art gallery. While he studies the exhibits, a silence descends and a docent approaches…
Darren clasped his hands behind his back as he meandered through the gallery. When he approached an exhibit flanked by a pair of floodlights, Darren halted and scrutinized the display as his hands untangled. His eyes darted from the piece to each flanking floodlight and settled on the artwork’s tag. He tucked his right hand under his arm while his other knuckles rubbed his lips.
He extended a finger and tapped his nose as his head spun, searching for anyone to discuss the piece. After scrutinizing the meandering crowd, Darren swallowed a lump and walked away from the exquisitely carved frame. But before making it a few steps, something twisted him about. “Are you looking for anyone in particular?”
Darren extricated himself, focusing on the hooded newcomer. His eyes drifted to either side of the towering individual, and he chewed his lips when he realized the lack of entrances in the room. His fingers crept to his pocket and wrapped around the keychain, “Are you an employee?”
The hooded figure nodded and pointed at the exhibit, “It’s a unique piece for the museum.”
Darren withdrew a small object, keeping it hidden from the docent’s view.
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However, the leader of the ship, Nathaniel, understands that despite trying to reclaim their technology, they would die if they also didn’t focus on surviving without all their advancements. So, each installment of Arrival has dealt with this balancing act, and while they haven’t discovered a way off their new planet, they have prospered, rediscovering tools that were lost centuries before their crash landing. While this collection of stories is coming to a close, those initial notes have spawned so much more for me to capture in future storylines.
But that’s enough exposition. Over the last few months Discussions, Exploration, and Return Journey have been focused on a plan hatched by the best and brightest of the Novan scientists. This month our attention will be centered on a conversation between Nathaniel and his confidant, Marcus, while those scientists seek to find the answers to their escape from their temporary home.
Nathaniel clapped Marcus’s back, “What are you worried about?”
“I can’t believe you’re asking me that question.” Marcus shrugged out of his friend’s grasp and turned around to lean against the glass. He jerked his thumb toward the eager scientists buzzing about a power cell. “You shoved a dozen of the best scientists in there and ordered them to tinker with a volatile power source. And you wonder why I’m worried?” Marcus crossed his arms and glared at Nathaniel out of the corner of his eye. “Since when did you require me to be that explicit.”
Marcus rested an arm against the window as he scratched the stubble invading his chin. “Nothing of value is ever achieved without taking risk. Fortunately, they’re aware of the danger.”
“Personally, I think racing down this path isn’t worth it.” Marcus chewed his lower lip as he stared at the scrambling scientists, “There are safer alternatives.”
“But none that would generate the success required to flee this world.” Nathaniel slammed his hand against the wall, “And you know that.”
A scientist approached, tapped the window, and thrust his finger towards the exit. Marcus grabbed Nathaniel’s arm and tugged him in the indicated direction. “It appears they don’t appreciate that disruption. Walk with me to the station.”
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When November’s poll closed, I had three genres to focus on, and the first one up is a Fairy Tale. Armed with my genre, I fell into my routine of heading over to NYC Midnight and randomly plucked a prompt from 2019. Armed with my narrative’s location, a cliff face, and an object that will make an appearance, an ax, I thought about the possibilities. But there wasn’t any single thread that sparked a complete storyline. And since it eluded me, I drifted to DeviantArt and searched for additional inspiration. None of the images that came up in the search didn’t capture my attention until I found Night Light by MeeranUhm.
The picture sparked a story that drew upon the Enchanted Forest Chronicles by Patricia C. Wrede for inspiration. Read the preview below and then head over to my Patreon account and become a patron to finish my squirrel’s story.
Join a talking squirrel and its fairy friend as they lounge around her lantern as night approaches. As they enjoy the end of their day, their tree is attacked…
The little squirrel clutched a burning twig in one paw and eased it into the metal lantern. When the wick burst to life, the furry creature withdrew the stick and smothered the flickering flame. The tiny animal slipped the extinguished scrap of wood into the lamp’s frame and looked from the flickering flames to the orb of pink light circling his head. Laying his arm against the top of the lantern, the squirrel bowed, “Thank you for the gift, Sienna.”
The sphere of illumination descended, landing beside the squirrel, and laid her head against the animal’s furry shoulders. “Everyone deserves something to dispel the descending darkness.”
“Would you like to share a meal with me?”
“I appreciate the offer,” the fairy replied as she leapt into the air, “But I’m not hungry.”
With a nod, the squirrel dashed to his hole and pulled a nut from within. The squirrel tore the acorn’s cap off and dropped it into the valley below. He spun the nut about and gnawed into the outer shell. As the tiny creature plopped in front of the lantern, the tree shook.
The squirrel threw his meal back through the opening and scurried down the trunk. As he raced toward the base, the squirrel noticed an oncoming gleam. He clutched the bark as the object bit into the tree, knocking the animal off. As the squirrel collided with a branch, his claws bit into it, halting his fall.
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While Quinn’s fingers tapped his desk, his eyes burned as he studied the slumped pilot across from him. As the triumvir continued tapping a rhythm, his eyes drifted toward the co-pilot, “Jasmine, I paired you with Isaac because I believed you could keep him in line.”
“Is that a workable job for anyone?” She shrugged and shoved Isaac’s legs off Quinn’s desk. “Given his grievances, I’m amazed with my accomplishments.”
“Fair point,” Quinn grumbled. He ran his fingers across his lips and closed his eyes, “Isaac, I appreciate your frustration with Olyver. But please stop provoking him like that.”
“You expect me to give the man who grounded me a free pass?”
Quinn dropped his head and started rubbing his temples. “Not everything is as simplistic as you’d prefer it to be.”
“Is that so?” Isaac pulled his chair towards Quinn and cleared the edge of the desk. He cupped his fingers around his chin as his eyes darkened, “You never say something without giving it a lot of thought. So, please explain yourself.”
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I jumped to a point in time before the events of Consequences and selected a different individual to focus on. Dustin is a paranoid survival nut. He installed a panic room in his home and stocks it with emergency rations just in case the power fails and the advanced technology becomes useless. Join Dustin as he completes his inventory and gets a surprise visit from his friend, Oliver.
Shortly after the rash of random beatings stop, Oliver visits his friend to criticize him for a recent decision and debate a recent law…
Dustin lifted the final parcel of rations off the shelf and checked its date. Sucking his lips, Darren rubbed his forehead, “With all our technology, you would think a scientist could figure out how to produce rations that outlast multiple emergencies?”
“Maybe instead of buying that junk, you should stock actual food.”
The package dropped from Dustin’s grip as he spun around.
The interloper leaned against the doorframe, tapping his chin. “Perhaps if you listened to my suggestions, you’d be able to pay attention to everyone that has entered your life, like Melinda.”
With a shallow breath, Dustin eased the tension from his shoulders and retrieved the fallen rations. He bounced it off his friend’s forehead, “Oliver, please explain how you’re always able to sneak up on me?”
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I did some research into the workings of an 1800s cattle ranch in the Midwest, and I placed a few of those details into the story. After the first round of editing, I realized that this tale might be a romance with some historical bindings. Pull up a chair and head over to my Patreon page to become a patron or delve into the story of Emma and Thomas.
Emma and Thomas’s wedding is approaching, but the bride is uneasy with this new chapter in her life. Can her parents soothe Emma’s unease…
A robust man bent down, lifting his wife’s head from her needlework. He leaned forward and kissed her. When they finished, he knelt and drew the back of his hand along her cheek. “I’ll return shortly with dinner, Anna.”
She dropped the garment into her lap and wrapped her arms around the man’s neck, pulling his lips back to hers. When they parted, Anna released her grip and caressed her husband’s face with her fingertips. “Have we provided Emma and Thomas enough to guarantee them a prosperous future together?”
He smiled at his wife and kissed the top of her forehead, “They’ll have everything they need to make a fresh start once we’re gone.”
As a tear formed in Anna’s eye, she sniffled and wiped it away with her thumb. “But Henry, will our efforts allow them to prosper and flourish?”
“She’ll be able to guide Thomas,” her husband answered as he went outside.
With a series of sniffles, Anna guided her needle along the hem of the garment resting in her lap. She pulled a handkerchief from her bodice and patted her eyes as she studied the dancing flames. Anna shoved the cloth up her sleeve and lifted the piece of clothing off her legs. She quickly found the needle, and her fingers continued their relentless labor.
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While Journeys details my wizard’s early life, I’ve used my Patreon exclusives to explore aspects of the adult wizard’s life. The purpose behind Ensnared was to demonstrate the power of the Hunters. And while I hinted at their abilities, I emphasized their reach and dedication to tracking down rogue wizards like Darren. That said, Darren is my hero, and the Hunters are his nemesis, so head over to my Patreon page to become a patron and discover Darren’s latest plan.
Having confirmed his stoolie’s loyalty, Darren searches for his informant. Will Darren be able to pass his false information to the Hunters…
With a groan, Darren pulled his buzzing phone from his pocket and answered the call, “Randall, why are you bothering me?”
“Darren, you’re late! Please tell me you’re on your way and roughly when we can expect your arrival.”
“You’re well aware of my plans for tonight,” Darren sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Can’t you stop interfering with my arrangements?”
“If you made the correct choices, I’d be happy to leave you alone. Unfortunately, feeding the Hunters false intelligence isn’t as important as an active social life.”
Darren’s palm slammed into his forehead as a groan wheezed out of him like air streaming from a balloon. He stared at the luminous stars through his fingers as they traveled down his face. “If supplying the Hunters didn’t require so much of my attention, I might choose to squander some of it for your social gatherings.” Darren dropped his gaze to the construction site and reached into his jacket, tracing a smooth edge, “When it’s done the ground floor better be publicly accessible.”
“With the construction happening, I figured you would’ve selected a more suitable location to communicate with your snitch?”
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Rylan paused on the street, studying the outlines in the storefront. After a brief examination of the reflection, he recognized the three shapes. He pressed his lips together and ran a hand through his hair as he touched the glass. He let his eyes linger on the translucent reflections while he took a series of deep breaths. Rylan rolled his head and tapped his fist against the smooth surface.
He scrunched his face and resumed walking. When he passed the entrance, Rylan darted down the alley on his left searching for a doorway. Halfway down the lane Rylan found one and stepped into it, wrapping the shadows around him. He peered over the doorframe and waited for his pursuers to follow.
When the initial stranger entered the backstreet, he leaned against the building and tapped his fingers against his arm.
When the second sauntered into the alley, he shoved the last one down the lane, “I thought this guy was a washed-up technician?”
“And fifteen years ago he was,” the initial man spat as he pushed off the wall. “But we didn’t exactly keep in touch after we returned from Laria.” He shoved both thick necked men down the alley and cupped his hands around his mouth, “Rylan, let’s have a conversation like civilized people?”
Rylan sighed and stepped out of his patch of shadows and waived at the trio. “Evan, why are you following me?”
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Fresh off of destroying their night off, Wayne looks for a fresh way to torment Darren’s friends. A few weeks later while Darren, Nory, and Maxwell are sitting around their table next to their dormitory, playing a card game. As the round creeps to a close, Maxwell salivates over his inevitable victory. Wayne inserts himself into their game and attempts to further undermine Darren’s friendships. Will Wayne’s actions isolate Darren? Or will Darren strengthen his friendship with Maxwell?
Darren drew a card, placing it alongside the others in his fingers. He chewed his upper lip as he tapped the corner of each card. With a glance at the played ones, Darren pulled his hand into his chest and leaned toward his friend. “What are you looking for?”
Maxwell waved his cards over his head and grinned, “Why would I tell you? I have a vested interest in winning this round.”
“Darren, stop assisting him,” Norry wheezed, thumping his hand on the table.
Darren shifted his played cards as his eyes flitted about the group. “I’m not trying to help him.” With a sigh, Darren leaned back into his chair and released a long breath. “Besides, I have my own plans for that pot.”
Maxwell leaned over and tapped the pile of bills. “Don’t get too familiar with my future funds.”
“Just because you’re a card or two away from winning doesn’t mean the pot’s going to be yours.” Darren lifted an eyebrow as he selected the least helpful card in his grip.
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Dyrk adjusted the craft’s trajectory and flipped the communication switch, “Is anyone manning the comm back home?”
“Yes, Dyrk, we’re still here.”
Diana jostled his shoulder as she deactivated the comm. Narrowing her eyebrows, Dianna tapped her armrest and sighed, “Were you expecting them not to be listening?”
Dyrk licked his lips and drummed a console as he winked at Diana, “I figured everyone manning control would be on a break.”
Diana slid forward and covered the microphone, “You’re aware that we’re retracing the colonization vessel’s trajectory. And it vanished the moment it entered this atmosphere, right?”
“I’m aware of the history.” Dyrk peeled Diana’s hand from the comm and tossed it into her lap. He reactivated the system, clearing his throat, “We’ve located the colonization ship.”
“Any signs of survivors?”
Dyrk’s tongue ran across his lips as he scrolled through the results of the scans. “Wendell, I’m uploading you a full copy of the report now. But while you’re waiting, I can describe the eclectic array of life on this rock for you.”
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After discovering the power cells stored in the bowels of the Novus, Marcus and his team collected their bounty and hiked back the way they came. Eager to return to his farm, Marcus leads everyone through the scavenged remains of the wrecked spacecraft. But as the expedition neared the end of their brief journey, the burden of lugging Nathaniel’s treasure from floor to floor wore at Marcus’s mental state. The combination of the bulky collection and his dread of being ambushed by the pirates broke his grip on his sanity. Will the wayward brigands prevent Marcus from returning to his land? Or will Marcus’s companions mock him for his concern?
Vincent twisted his head as his lips raced into a smile, “I can see daylight behind you.”
Marcus’s lips curled into a snarl as his muscles quivered, hauling the power cells, “Good for you.” As Marcus pulled the weight, beads of sweat rolled down his brow. “But I’d prefer getting back to the settlement before anything unexpected happens.”
“What a whiner,” Vincent grumbled, popping his head through the hole.
A curse erupted from Marcus as the rope slipped through his grip. His knees slammed into the floor as his fingers tightened around the rope, “Get up here and take over!”
“Marcus, you need to relax.”
The course line slid through Marcus’s grasp, rubbing his skin, “Not everything’s value is apparent. Now remove the dead weight from my hands.”
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Journey of Thanks centers about a note giving Tully an insight into the lasting impact of his life. While the new story still centers on the note, I decided to go in a different direction with my main character. It also allowed me to delve into the ‘character’ of the note. Sit down and get comfortable as you delve into the Lamar’s story.
Lamar’s ghost awakens in the middle of a suburb with a note attached to his palm. After several failed escapes, he headed for the address…
Lamar rolled his wrist and stared at the note attached to his palm. With a huff, he clenched his fist and swung at the building’s wall. But his immaterial fingers passed through the brick and mortar. Without the expected resistance, Lamar tumbled into the two-story structure. As his face hurtled for the floor, he twisted his body into a roll. As Lamar came to his feet, he brushed his hands through his legs, swallowing a curse. While taking a calming breath, Lamar shoved his head through the wall and traced the numbers next to the entrance.
Pulling his tattooed palm out, Lamar groaned and huffed at the duplicate address. Curses flooded from Lamar’s mouth as he pulled his hand through his scalp. He whirled into the house and glared at the far end of the hallway. His lips quivered as his head drifted to the sitting room on his left, “Well, this is the correct address. Unfortunately, I believe that you’ve directed me to the wrong place. I don’t know anyone who would ever consider living in a hovel like this.”
After taking a few steps, Lamar jerked his hand to his chest, gasping as he jumped up. “OW!” He cracked his eyes and realized he was hanging in the air. Lamar shivered and looked at his palm and read the note as its text altered.
‘Examine the home, and your answers will be revealed.’
Lamar’s nose flared as a stream of curses spewed from his lips. His legs flailed until his feet reached the floor. Lamar’s neck rolled as he stalked down the hallway. When he reached an arch leading into another room, Lamar stood under the elegant curve. He stepped inside and gazed at the sparsely populated bookshelves lining the far wall. His eyes dropped and registered a pair of mismatched and threadbare chairs in the middle of the makeshift library.
Lamar crept to the nearest chair and touched its back, but his fingertips passed through the bleached leather. He threw his notarized hand up and kicked the seat, “What am I doing here? Whoever lives here isn’t worth my time. They’re beneath me.”
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In Darren’s world, the biggest threat to any rouge mage is a group called the Hunters. I’ve painted them as the enforcers of the ruling class of wizards. And while true, I’ve intentionally left them mostly undefined. But this image presented me with an option to explore their methods. Get comfortable and head on to my Patreon page to become a patron and discover Darren’s entanglement with the Hunters.
Darren walked along some power lines when a thunderstorm rolled in. As lightning strike about him, a creature made of electricity…
When the first droplets of rain fell upon Darren, he raised his hand as crackling blue energy arced about his fingers. A moment later, the gathering magic surged out of his fingertips, forming an umbrella. Darren lifted it over his head and continued walking along the footpath. He tethered the barrier to his shoulder and wiped the few beads of water from his face as lightning streaked across the sky.
Darren reached up and touched the magical construct, and pulsing green energy flowed from his fingertips into the mystical umbrella. As the thunderclap rolled across the plane, another bolt of lightning raced toward Darren. As the electricity neared, it turned and slammed into the ground a dozen feet away. With a smile, Darren grinned and turned his head. Darren chewed his lower lip as his eyes flittered between the forest’s edge, the swelling storm clouds, and the nearby power lines.
Darren’s fingers ran through his hair as he released a pent-up breath. He kicked some loose gravel down the path and resumed walking away from the forest. When Darren approached the nearest tower, the power lines hummed, crackling with energy. His eyes drifted to the mounted transformers, and Darren saw a glow swelling about the lines running into the boxes.
The barrier keeping the rain off him flickered and vanished as Darren backpedaled toward the safety of the forest. The coalescing power flashed and arced from the nearest transformer and plowed into the ground, creating a flash of blinding blue light. As the energy’s illumination dimmed, Darren’s breathing stopped while he inched away from a growing mass at the base of the tower. With a loud pop, the swirling and crackling energy exploded. As it deflated, the wriggling energies formed into a snarling ape-like creature with a set of antlers sprouting from the thing’s scalp.
Darren’s fingers splayed as he thrust his hands at the monster, flinging red lightning from his fingertips. The collection of power slammed into the creature’s chest. As the attack burrowed into the monster’s electrical body, it whirled toward Darren and charged the wizard.
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With the foundation of the tale entrenched in my mind, I took a slight break. When I returned this Crime Caper, the characters jumped to life, and I watched the narrative unfolded before me. And with that, I have another pair of characters that I’m excited about. With their backgrounds, I’m eager to return and flesh them out. Take a sneak peek at the tale and hurry on to the full story over at my Patreon site.
A seasoned thief has procured the services of a reckless youngster. Will this unlikely pairing bear fruit? Or will their efforts fail…
As a shadow slid down the home’s exterior wall, Alistair groaned and tapped his earpiece. “Dexter, I spliced the disruptor into the power line last night, don’t worry about disabling the security system.”
The shadow stopped moving and hung just above the window, Alistair identified as the entry into the mark’s study. “You chose me, so allow me to perform my job.”
Alistair rolled his eyes and banged his forehead, “Dexter, you have never had access to the tools I am providing you.” With a shake of his head, Alistair leaned against the wall of the neighboring home. “The window you’ve taken an eternity to enter is vulnerable for the foreseeable future. You don’t have to worry about tripping any alarms, so please get your act together and proceed with your infiltration.”
The shadow swayed and circled the glass opening, “Weren’t you just telling me about the importance of patience?”
Alistair’s teeth ground as he glared across the lawn at his partner. His fingernails dug into his palms as he inched toward the building, “At the time, I was teaching you how to correctly lift someone’s identification.”
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“Can I take another minute?”
Shawn shook his head and thumped his desk, “You are out of time. I’ve already given you an extra thirty minutes, now give me your test, or I’ll be forced to reward your hard work with a zero.”
Zachary slipped his pen behind his ear with a groan and strolled up to Shawn’s desk. He dropped his exam next to the assignments his professor was correcting, “Thank you for giving me what you could. Do you have anything planned for the weekend, aside from grading those?”
Shawn grinned and lifted Zachary’s test and slipped it into a drawer. He locked it and propped his chin on a hand, “Normally I would grade these tests tonight. However, this time that’s a job for my teacher’s assistant, because I’ve got important plans for the weekend.”
“Did you finally find a new place?” Zachary looked around the lecture hall as he shoved his hands into his pockets, “Cause living in a university lecture hall is a little strange.”
Shawn’s fingers drummed on his desk while his other hand stabbed toward the door, “Run along, Zachary, and enjoy your weekend.”
“Bye, Professor,” Zachary retorted as he rushed to the exit. He walked out of the auditorium, bumping into a woman. The young man looked away and tipped his head, “I’m sorry, are you looking for Professor Tillman?”
She smiled, gripping her hands behind her back, “Is he in there?”
“He’s currently sitting at his desk grading some papers,” Zachary replied, jerking his thumb over his shoulder.
The woman watched the student disappear down the hallway and shook her head as she slipped into the lecture hall. She leaned against the doorframe and folded her arms across her chest as she studied Shawn grading his student’s work. Her eyes drifted around the chamber and noted Shawn’s personal possessions littered about the room. She took a deep breath and walked toward the desk, “Don’t you have an office?”
Shawn looked up and grinned, “Elizabeth, you’re early.” He picked up the stack of papers and stuffed them into his desk. “Give me a minute, and we can head on out.” Shawn locked the drawer, grabbed his coat off his chair and slipped into it, “I have a wonderful evening planned for us.”
Elizabeth sauntered over to a small armoire and opened it. She reached in and slid clothes along the bar, “Wouldn’t your life be easier if you moved into your office rather than a lecture hall? Either way what happened to your lease?”
Shawn sat on the corner of his desk, placing his folded hands onto his knee. “I chose not to re-sign it,” Shawn shrugged, spreading his arms out. “And I’m the only professor using this room.”
Elizabeth pulled a suit sleeve out of the armoire, “Really?”
“For this semester,” Shawn hopped off his desk and hurried over to Elizabeth. He wove his fingers with hers and lifted her right hand to his lips and kissed it. “Don’t worry, I’ll be out of here before the start of the next one.”
Elizabeth wrested her hands out of Shawn’s grasp and bit her lips.
Shawn’s smile melted away, and his eyes bulged. He worked his jaw back and forth while he wrapped his arm around Elizabeth’s shoulders. He guided her to the platform, pointing to the pair of armchairs at the far edge, “Sit with me and we can chat before heading out for the evening.”
“Shawn, that’s all we ever do, and I’m tired of being the second priority in your life.” Elizabeth rubbed her eyes and stared at the small table sitting between the chairs. She bent down and lifted the clay cookie jar, “It’s amazing that you still have this.”
Shawn eased Elizabeth into the seat and dropped into the other, “You made that for me, why wouldn’t I keep it.”
Elizabeth released a pent-up sigh and touched the clay pot to her forehead. “We’ve been dating for six years, and every time I expected our relationship to grow, you do something that proves I’m not your priority.”
Shawn rose from his chair and knelt in front of Elizabeth. He swallowed a lump and took the cookie jar as he forced a smile onto his face, “Have a cookie.”
Elizabeth shook her head and removed the lid.
Shawn lifted the jar, keeping its contents out of view.
“What kind of cookies do you have?”
“If you want to know what’s in here, reach inside and pull one out.”
“Even if you stuffed freshly baked cookies in this jar,” Elizabeth tapped the side of the clay pot and sighed. “It won’t change my mind.”
Flashing Elizabeth a warm smile, Shawn winked and inched closer to the chair, “Trust me and get yourself a cookie.”
Elizabeth reached into the jar, and her fingers brushed against something soft and velvety. Her eyebrows rose as her mouth fell. Elizabeth clutched the strange object and pulled it out of the clay pot. When it came into view, her lips quivered as her free hand gripped the bottom of the blue box, and she cracked it open. Her hands trembled as her eyes focused on the sparkling diamond.
Shawn eased the cookie jar back onto the table, placing his palms against her legs and looked into her green eyes. “Will you marry me?”
Elizabeth pulled the ring out of the box and dropped the container into her lap.
Shawn grabbed the ring and slipped it onto her finger.
“What took you so long to ask?”
Shawn kissed her fingers, “So is that a yes?”
Elizabeth wrapped her arms around Shawn’s neck and drew him into her, “Yes, I’ll marry you, I just wish you did this years ago.”
]]>Despite having a freshly printed set of stumps and stones, I wanted to design my own pieces. With that desire coursing through me, I fired up the freshly installed Fusion 360 and started poking through the software. Despite never using 3D modeling software before and the daunting nature of its interface, my desire to create a set of TAK pieces drove me to poke through the software. After a lot of trial and error and delving into the depths of YouTube for tutorials, I eventually stumbled onto two original designs that I’m eager to print, when I can find the time to get them loaded into one of my printers.
Fresh off a pair of designs I was happy with, I dove into the libraries of some 3D printing YouTubers looking for some inspiration for my next major project. And while I was thumbing through 3D Printing Nerd’s YouTube Channel, I stumbled onto one of his videos where he talked about his maker coin. Having run across other 3D printing YouTubers talk about these coins, I turned to Google to learn more about these prints. One of the top results was a video from Makers’s Muse, where he endeavors to answer a pair of related questions. What is a Maker Coin and should you design one? The video is interesting and worth watching, but it also lit a fire in me to create my maker coin.
When the video finished, I checked its description and clicked the link to Maker’s Muse Fusion 360 Maker Coin tutorial. After watching the tutorial, I wished I’d run across it before I modeled my TAK pieces. I learned a lot of basics and practices that make sense. Honestly, those tips and tricks probably would have made my life simpler while working on my TAK pieces. The best nugget I took from the video, and creating my maker coin, was the power behind Design History. Before this video, I would make new alterations to the model to adjust the previous alteration. After watching this video, I realized that I could alter any step in the model’s Design History, and those alterations would carry throughout all the steps in the history.
Armed with this knowledge, I’m going to revisit the TAK pieces and the other designs I’ve created between the TAK pieces and my Maker Coin. Thankfully, I’m finding a balance with my 3D printing obsession and my writing. Ultimately, I would love to create 3D models lifted right from my stories, though I’m well aware of the practice and patience it will take to get there, and I am excited to get there eventually.
]]>Jasmine pressed the button to engage the platform and as it whined to life, she dashed up next to Isaac. “Do you think the other habitable moons orbiting this gas giant have been colonized?”
Isaac shook his head and smirked as he tapped his foot on the dais, “It’s more than likely.” He shrugged and turned his palms up to the ceiling, “I mean the other ships departed at the same time. But if memory serves, those pilots planned on settling on those moons.”
“They’d still need to return to Aurora to report to the triumvirs,” Jasmine said, folding her arms across her chest.
“No,” Isaac reached out and tapped her nose. “They’ll probably head straight to their homes and contact Quinn from there, or they might delegate the task to someone else.”
With a smirk of her own, Jasmine slapped his arm as a flash of white light washed over them. An instant later, she gripped Isaac’s wrist, “Care to place a wager on that?”
“What are you two betting on?” Quinn asked.
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Rylan eased into the seat beside Garvin and folded his hands in his lap. After listening to the drivel for a few minutes, he leaned toward his father-in-law and tapped his shoulder. “Why’s the council allowing Liam to drone on like this?”
“He’s been droning on,” Garvin took a breath and glanced at his watch. “He’s been hammering multiple points for a few hours.” The older man rubbed his mouth with both hands and huffed, “Though those of us who’ve been here from the beginning would swear it’s been days.”
Rylan’s head fell into his headrest as he closed his eyes, listening to the propaganda spewing from Liam’s mouth. When Liam repeated his objections for the tenth time, Rylan tugged Garvin’s shirt. “Haven’t we listened to enough of Liam’s nonsense?” Rylan released his hold and thumped his forehead. “Annabelle and I torpedoed his desire to rely on ships, why haven’t we overhauled the platforms?”
“Because our friendly captain is persistent.”
“How is that affecting the vote to overhaul the platforms?”
“Well, as your presentation implied, he’s clutching at straws, and while you torpedoed his strongest argument with the rebuttal you and Annabelle crafted, he switched to other convincing arguments.” With a huff, Garvin pulled a pad from his jacket and brandished it in front of Rylan. “Unfortunately, you shouldn’t miss council meetings. Digging through their propaganda gives us a chance to understand his agenda.”
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While I took some liberties from the source image, the concept of a battle suit jumped to the forefront of my mind. From there, I wove Wendy’s story together. Unlike Uninvited Guests, Wendy’s narrative was not as forthcoming. Its storyline took some unexpected turns, but instead of trying to rein it in to the original plan, I allowed the story to unfold piece by piece. Pull up a chair and get comfortable to follow Wendy’s escape.
A young woman, disenchanted with her life, steals a prototype battle suit and rushes headlong for freedom. Will she escape or be captured…
Boom!
Wendy jumped to her feet, pulling a scope from her pack as the ground quivered. She scanned the horizon while her other hand reached back, groping for her battle suit’s metal frame.
Boom!
Another thud ripped through the sky as a collection of pebbles rattled in their outcropping. As the ground continued to quake, Wendy stowed her viewing device and scampered to her exoskeleton’s ladder.
Boom!
With a glance over her shoulder, Wendy clambered up into her cockpit. As she stood on her seat, her fingers gripped the canopy’s handles.
Boom!
She dropped into the chair and slammed the canopy into place, silencing the thunderclaps. Her hands flew across the console, activating the battle suit as something crested a nearby hill. A series of curses escaped her lips while she continued bringing her machine to life. As power flowed into the suit, the clear canopy darkened, transitioning into a view of the outside, complete with a tactical overlay.
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Using the image as a basis, the core of Lisandra’s tale seared itself into my mind. I leaned upon Disney’s The Sorcerer’s Apprentice, the one with Mickey Mouse to round out the story. After a few passes, I was happy with how the story came out. Get comfy and follow along with Lisandra’s foray in her master’s workroom.
Lisandra has been tasked by her master to clean his workroom, but she’s aggravated that she drew the short straw yet again…
Lisandra grabbed the wizard’s hat off the floor and stomped across the room. “Why does he constantly make me clean up?!” She placed the cap in its designated location and glanced at a cup on the ground. Her lips curled into a scowl as she kicked the mug across the floor, “He’s the one who trashes it.” When the cup bounced against the wall, her face scrunched, and she scampered to reclaim it. Lisandra gingerly placed it next to her master’s spell book and released a pent-up breath.
She spun around, seizing the broom from its nook, and started sweeping. When she finished half of the room, her foot grazed the cast iron vat. Lisandra stopped and peered into it. Her head tilted as she studied the dark liquid, and she flinched as it bubbled. Lisandra dropped and looked under the cauldron and gasped when she didn’t find any coals or fire. The broom tumbled out of her grip as she climbed to her feet, touching the metal with a fingertip. Her mouth gaped as she pressed her hand against the cool surface. Lisandra ripped her attention from the boiling contents and scampered to her master’s spell book.
Her finger traced the lines of text on the open pages. When she finished, she spun around, chewing her lip as her gaze drifted to the cauldron, “What did he do?”
“He opened a door for me.”
Lisandra’s eyes flittered about the chamber as she withdrew her wand from her belt. She gripped it tightly to her chest, “And who are you?”
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To continue reading head over to my Patreon page and become a patron, $2 a month will give you access to this and other flash fiction stories.
I laid the initial threads for Discovery, while I worked on Colonization, but I knew I needed something to bridge the time between the narratives. While those initial scribbles mentioned the inhabitants of the homeworld grew frightened and insular when they lost contact with their ship, I knew something would have to motivate an entire planet to investigate that loss. So while Colonization drew to a close, I let a story line percolate in my mind, and Return unfurled. Pull up a chair and get comfortable so you can delve into the bridge between these two collections.
The gathered council members sat in the hall, whispering amongst themselves as they waited for the session to begin. As the whispers grew, one voice sliced through the din, reaching everyone’s ears. “There’s no scheduled vote today. Why are we here?”
“I called everyone here to discuss the failed attempt to colonize Morven.” The statement silenced the council as the lights dimmed, and millions of bluish-white spheres emerged from the central dais. When the orbs coalesced into an imposing figure, it inclined its head, pressing its hands together. “Long ago, our ancestors sent an expedition to our sister planet, in a hope to form a colony.”
A councilor stood, clearing her throat. “Chancellor, while it’s unfortunate that some of our ancestors were lost in that foolhardy attempt to expand, we should leave well enough alone and ignore Morven.”
The holographic Chancellor bowed toward the councilor, “That’s been this administration’s idea for far too long.”
“We don’t want to risk a second expedition to that cursed world!” Another councilman cried out as he slapped his thighs.
“Distracting our thoughts with an attempt to re-colonize our sister planet is a mistake,” a distinct voice declared. As a hush descended into the council chambers, a woman rose and leaned upon the railing. The silence lingered for an instant before clasping her hands to her chest. “There are too many issues here that require our entire attention.”
The Chancellor cleared his throat as his eyes scanned every councilor in the auditorium. When his attention latched upon the standing woman, he widened his stance. “We have established programs to address each of those concerns, Jasmine.” The giant hologram smiled wryly as he lifted an admonishing finger. “And you’re aware of the positive reaction from those initiatives.” The Chancellor waved her worries away and addressed the room. “It is long since time that we discovered what befell our kin. We can no longer bury our heads in the sands of our world. We must explore the planet whose orbit we share.”
Another councilor stood and clapped methodically. The mocking echoes silenced the murmurs as he offered the Chancellor a false grin. He waggled a finger at the hologram as he descended toward the edge of the dais. “However, you’re not being entirely honest with us.”
As the man circled the platform, his eyes flitted between the other councilors and the Chancellor. After circling the platform, the councilman turned toward his colleagues. He rocked, gripping his hands behind his back, “Syrupy words cannot sway this institution from our responsibilities. Dorian’s statement might entice us into action, but crumbles upon closer scrutiny.”
“Patton, that’s enough of your nonsense,” the Chancellor stated as his gaze narrowed.
Patton whirled and marched towards the Chancellor with his arms raised, “I meant no disrespect, Chancellor.” The man’s smile sharpened as he spun to address the rest of the council, “Unfortunately, the programs you alluded to, while a step in the right direction are all woefully under funded. And more to the point, they’re more relevant to our population.” Patton resumed his march around the Chancellor while the gathered council member started murmuring. The next time the councilor stopped, he lifted a finger. “While I would agree that expanding our civilization to another planet would stimulate our economy. Any financial boost would be short-lived and ultimately cause a financial depression amongst this population once enough people leave.”
The hologram’s lips curled up into a smile as he clapped at Patton’s speech. “As always, Patton, you’re losing sight of the bigger picture. I have never demanded nor even requested that we make another attempt to colonize that strange planet.”
The councilman spun toward Dorian and raised a trembling finger. “Since when did you abandon that idea?”
“My position on this topic hasn’t wavered.” Dorian offered Patton a warm grin and a wink as his hands latched together behind his back. “To repeat myself, we’re here today to discuss our failed attempt at colonizing Morven. But that doesn’t mean I’m intending to colonize it again.”
“What’s your intention?”
Dorian pulled his hands out and rubbed them together. “I intend to send a battalion to establish communication with whoever might still be alive. Or if they discover an uninhabited planet, they’ll determine what happened to our lost expedition.”
A chorus of agreement erupted from every mouth.
Patton grimaced as his fingernails dug into his palms. With a huff, the councilman brushed his clothing. “How would you like to balance this expedition of yours and the programs needed to keep our world running smoothly?”
Dorian shook his head and spread his arms out wide. “I don’t disagree that the priority of this administration is the well-being of our citizens. But diverting less than ten percent of our budget will enable us to recover our history.”
“You cannot rob that much of our budget to fund this meaningless expedition.”
“Patton, this excursion isn’t pointless.” The hologram kneeled, bringing its face closer to the councilor. “That failed expedition occurred over a century ago, anyone on it is long since dead. However, we owe it to them and possibly their descendants to discover the truth.” Dorian rose and spoke to the other council members. “It’s time we put this resolution to a vote! Do we tighten our belts for the next five years and give those pioneers their proper place in history? Or are we going to leave them to the chasm they’ve found themselves?”
Everyone present lifted their pad and voted, and with each ballot, the back wall altered. When Patton completed his selection, he glanced at the tallies and groaned. He slipped his tablet into his jacket and sauntered next to the hologram and adjusted his clothing. “You’ve captured enough of the council to launch this ridiculous endeavor. But just because you have won this vote, doesn’t mean you’ll continue winning their hearts.”
Dorian shook his head, ignoring the petulant councilor. “So, it shall be done. We will uncover the truth of our missing brethren.”
]]>Wayne blocked his nose with a finger as he passed by an alley. “There can’t be a valid reason to be roaming this part of the city?”
Maxwell’s hands clenched as he whirled to face Wayne. Darren stepped between them, pushing both of their chests and flashing a wan smile at Maxwell. The Dwarf’s fury dimmed as he took a single step away from Wayne.
The arrogant student interlaced his fingers behind his back. “Can I interest you in something else for the evening?”
Maxwell punched his palm, “Why are you even here?”
Darren nudged Maxwell and shoved his face into Wayne’s. “We told you our agenda before we left the Academy.” He jabbed Wayne’s chest, forcing him back. “I told you that you wouldn’t enjoy those plans.”
With smoldering eyes, Maxwell stepped in front of Wayne.
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To continue reading the story, click here to head over to Wattpad.
With the prompt in place, I sat down, and the story flowed from my fingertips into my computer. With my initial draft finished, I turned my attention to a couple other drafts while I let the story percolate in the back of my mind. When I returned to my Drama, for the second and third passes, I fine-tuned the narrative and ensured that everything was in place. So, come join me for Lucile’s stroll.
Follow Lucile as she wanders her Uncle’s strawberry farm lost in her thoughts. Will the tranquility of the field bring her peace…
Lucile’s fingertips slid across the worn boards of the raised platforms of her Uncle’s berry field. With every step, a bunch of green and red fruits collided with her fingers, their rough surface rubbing her delicate skin. As she strolled through the strawberry field, it took her a few moments to realize that she couldn’t feel the touch of the smooth wood. Her hands jerked to her chest as she held her breath.
When her lungs burned, she turned around and forced herself to resume breathing. Lucile’s head drifted left and right, taking in the size of her Uncle’s field. She scurried back into the neatly constructed rows of strawberry plants, clutching her stomach. Lucile’s hands lifted the nearest bunch of berries, plucking the ripest one. She pulled her canteen from her tote and washed the delicate fruit. When she finished, Lucile dropped the bottle back into the bag and resumed her meandering.
“What are you doing out here?”
Lucile forced a lump down her throat as her grip tightened about the fruit. Her eyes fell to the ground as her foot dug a furrow in the soil. “I’m trying to make sense of everything that’s happened, Uncle.”
The man sauntered up to his niece and wrapped an arm around her shoulders and tapped her clutched fingers. “If you squeeze that any harder, you won’t be able to enjoy it.”
“Oh,” Lucile’s free hand leapt to her mouth, emphasizing her blushing cheeks.
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Marcus lifted his hand through the hole and waived it until someone handed him a torch. With it in hand, Marcus dropped to the floor, allowing the flickering flame to illuminate his surroundings. “I can already tell this level is a bust, secure another ladder before you follow. While you’re doing that, I’ll search for the next place to cut through.”
“On it,” a gruff voice answered.
Marcus shook his head as he started walking down the hall. As he neared a bend in the hallway, a voice pulled him to a halt. “Marcus, we’re about a dozen decks beneath the surface of the water. It’s not wise to split up again.”
Marcus pointed down the corridor, staring at the various things reflecting the torchlight. Without turning around, he waved the man forward. “Forget what I said, it appears this level might have more promise than I initially believed.”
“Do you see a power cell?” the gruff voice asked.
“Vincent,” Marcus barked as he continued down the hall, “Everyone needs to get down here on the double.”
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To continue reading the story, click here to head over to Wattpad.
While the book starts a little slow, the dedicated thirty minutes a day to read got me through the initial chapters. And for that, I’m thankful. When the action started, Bella Forrest paced it beautifully. The initial conflict of the novel pits Harley’s feeble abilities against a gargoyle who is searching for his next meal. It quickly becomes clear that she’s taken on more than she can handle. Fortunately for her, another magical intervenes, keeping her from joining the helpless human as the gargoyle’s next meal.
After the initial brawl, the magical who rescued her, Wade Crowley, eventually drags her to the San Diego Coven. When they arrive at the main entrance, I couldn’t help but chuckle. And I challenge you to keep a grin from your face when you read that part of the novel. When Crowley opens the door, it quickly became apparent that the Coven was larger on the inside. She’s led throughout the coven and is rapidly thrown into the cleanup of the escaped monsters. From that moment on, the story kept pulling me in. Unfortunately, life stepped in and bumped the reading time off our agenda. And while things kept piling up, the story kept calling to me until last week when I picked up my Kindle and continued where I left off.
As I continued my exploration of this new world, I reveled in the increasing tension and urgency of the situation. While the action and the collection of characters were comfortable, I would have liked to see more depth from the secondary characters. Thankfully, Harley Smith, and yes, despite the blurb and title calling the protagonist Harley Merlin, she’s introduced to the reader as Harley Smith. I understand that she’s a foster kid with dreams of finding her parents someday, but I would have preferred being surprised about the discovery of her last name rather than expecting it. Putting that gripe aside, watching her grow from the initial pages to the last words, was satisfying.
When the tale finished, I immediately returned the book and grabbed the next installment in the series from the Kindle Lending Library. And if you don’t have a book checked out via the platform, if you’re a fan of urban fantasy you should borrow Harley Merlin and the Secret Coven, it’s a fun read once you get passed the initial chapters.
]]>After a little thought, I realized that Mounting Tensions offered me a perfect place to insert this brief story. Decision made, the story flooded into my mind and my fingers worked furiously to capture the broad outline that was spilling out from my mind. Thankfully, my fingers proved up to the task, and the narrative took hold and blossomed into a full first draft. With a little more time, I completed the story of two friends dealing with the hardship of a world where three quarters of the population has been forcibly resettled to other planets. Grab a chair, get comfortable, and explore these two friends, discuss their current events as they search for a meal.
“Have you gotten your stimulus deposit?”
Wilson dropped his head into his right hand and sighed. He shifted a few pads littering his desk, grabbed the one on the bottom, and brandished it. “The government’s handout made its way into my account, not that it’ll help all that much.”
“I’m hungry, and you were supposed to meet me at Sal’s Diner.” Jacob closed the door and dashed to the chair next to Wilson, plopping into it as he seized the pad. He looked at the deposit and grinned. Dropping the tablet, he leaned back and stared up at the ceiling. “How can you be so miserable after getting that amount of money? What are you planning on doing with that government handout?”
Wilson lifted a finger and twirled it over his head as he slumped into his chair.
“There’s no pleasing you, is there?”
“Oh, I’m a simple man to please.” Wilson pushed himself away from his desk and laced his fingers in his lap. “If Liam hadn’t pressed for that senseless resettlement program, then we wouldn’t have needed that stupid handout…
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When last we left Darren and Randall, Darren was searching for who poisoned his friend while Randall busied himself with his recovery. Now I’ve left Darren Gilbert’s world a little vague, but I’ve always intended it to be a world where technology and magic coexist. And with my focus on my 3D printer, I incorporated that into this month’s tale. Come delve into Darren’s discovery of the origin of the poison when he checks on his friend.
The door swung open silently, and Darren eased into Randall’s home. When the lock clicked into place, Darren patted the frame with his fist and sucked in a deep breath. Shaking his head, he rushed into Randall’s kitchen and opened the refrigerator. His fingers snatched a tall glass bottle, and with a swift motion, he popped the top off and took a swig. “Ahhhh,” Darren mumbled as he thumped the drink onto the counter. “Randall, where are you!?”
A slight pop echoed as a disembodied voice announced, “In my spare office.”
Darren scowled as his grip tightened around the beverage while his foot tapped against the stone floor. Darren gulped another mouthful as he marched out of the kitchen and bounded up the stairs. He stormed down the hallway and gripped the knob of the room. With a violent shove, the door clanged against the wall, and Darren sauntered into the office. He leaned against the doorframe and waited for Randall to respond.
As the seconds ticked away, Darren’s foot resumed its tapping as he took another pull from his bottle. Darren clicked his tongue and bounced the bottle against his thigh, while Randall stoically hunched over a whizzing and whirling machine. Darren knocked on the wall and cleared his throat, “How is this resting…
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The man peering down the chasm smiled, waving his arms over his head. He glanced down at a collection of stones, and knocked them off the ledge, watching them plummet toward the lake. When the rocks plunged into the tranquil water, ripples spread across the surface. He turned around and scampered to his friend, resting his cast on the guy’s back. “Ethan, why are you worried?”
“Daniel, you broke your arm the last time you tried making that jump!”
Daniel pulled Ethan closer, smirking as he nudged his friend’s shoulder. “You make it sound so unpleasant.”
Ethan pushed Daniel away, as he thrust his hand toward the far side of the gorge. “That gap’s over ten feet wide, and I’ll remind you of two things. First, your earlier try came up short and second you almost killed yourself when you plummeted thirty feet into the lake.”
“Bah,” Daniel waved his cast over his head as he hustled back to the gap and peered into the calm water. “I can see the rock outcropping that gave me this lovely billy club.” He turned, waving Ethan over to the ledge as he pointed at the still lake. “To avoid a similar mishap, I’ll jump over the darkest patch of water.”
“That’s the dumbest thing you’ve ever said.” Ethan grabbed his friend’s collar and dragged him away from the edge.
“Stop trying to impose your logic on me.”
Ethan’s fingers tightened as he hauled his friend down the hill. “You have done stupid things before, but this takes the cake. I’m not about to let you kill yourself, and Madison will never forgive me if she has to pick you up from the emergency room.” Ethan jerked on Daniel’s shirt spinning him around and gripped his shoulders, “Or worse the morgue.”
Daniel pulled free from Ethan’s grip and shoved his friend. “You’re not my girlfriend or my boss.” He thumped his chest and pointed back at the precipice. “I’m leaping across that chasm.”
“What’s the point of risking your life?”
Daniel backed toward the gorge, licking his lips. “You’ve never understood why these experiences are important to me.”
“No daredevil stunt is worth dying.” Ethan lunged and grabbed Daniel’s wrist.
With a scowl, Daniel twisted, pulling his arm free and rammed his shoulder into Ethan’s.
Ethan stumbled and fell to his butt. With a snarl, he clambered to his feet and rushed his friend. His left fist swung at Daniel’s jaw, but the man batted the strike away with his uninjured forearm. “Daniel, how many trips to the ER have you had because of your foolish stunts?”
Daniel wrapped his arm around Ethan’s and shoved him into a tree. He lifted his cast wrapped forearm, tapping it against Ethan’s neck. “If you try to stop me again, I will hit you with the weapon the doctors graciously provided.”
Ethan’s free hand latched upon the rough white material and twisted Daniel’s cast.
“Oww!” Daniel yanked his fist from Ethan’s grasp and thrust his friend against the tree. “There was no need for that.” Daniel clenched his teeth and shoved Ethan down, slamming his knee into his friend’s gut. As Daniel released his grip, Ethan tumbled to the ground. Drawing a sharp breath, Daniel fondled his cast and stifled a curse. “You cannot stop me from making this leap.”
“Ugh!” Ethan’s hand shot out, grabbing Daniel’s pants. With the fabric clutched between his fingers, Ethan tugged on the jeans.
Daniel yanked his leg free and bolted toward the chasm.
“Don’t do it!”
“I have to jump!” Daniel’s arms and legs pumped as he rushed for the ledge.
Ethan climbed to his feet, staggering after his friend.
As Daniel approached the edge, he crouched down and leapt in a fluid motion.
“NO!”
Daniel’s arm shot out as he glided through the air and smiled.
Ethan fell to his hands and knees and crawled to the chasm. When he reached it, Ethan peered over and collapsed. “You’ve gotten yourself into an awkward situation.”
“Oomph!” Daniel’s body inched toward the safety of the ledge, “Umph! Help would be marvelous.”
Ethan rubbed his eyes and stared at Daniel dangling from the edge, as he propped his chin up with his hands. “You’re aware that there’s no bridge spanning these ledges.” Ethan’s head glanced to his left, then his right. “That leaves me the single choice, trekking around the lake which would take too long.” Ethan’s forehead dropped to the earth. “If you fall, I’m dragging you to Madison not emergency services!”
“If you won’t help, please let me concentrate.” Daniel’s fingers clenched around a root as his foot searched for a perch. When his toes found an outcropping, he pushed up while he hauled himself over the precipice and collapsed upon the dirt.
Ethan sat up, pulling his legs to his chest, “Was it worth it?”
Daniel rolled over and braced himself up on his elbows. “It was amazing! The adrenaline rush is unbelievable!”
Ethan rose and dusted off his pants. “You’re aware that Madison’s going to kill you.”
The laughter intensified as Daniel dragged himself away from the precipice, “She won’t do anything that rash.”
“Why are you laughing?”
Daniel’s head cocked while his grin widened. “Can’t you congratulate me for making it?”
“No!”
Daniel shook his head and tapped something poking out of the ground. “Well I’ll thank the tree’s root for giving me the initial perch on the ledge.”
Ethan peered at the rippling surface as he kicked a loose stone over the precipice. “You realize, the patch of the lake you were dangling over wasn’t very blue. If you fell, you probably would have snapped your legs.”
Daniel scooted toward the edge and scrutinized the water. His eyes widened and latched upon Ethan’s as a lopsided smirk emerged, “You know, I think you’re right.” He tapped the earth next to him. “But, I made it.”
Ethan slapped his face and grumbled, “Something’s wrong with you!”
]]>Though shortly after penning the initial thoughts for this piece, my 3D printer decided to work again, and I’ve been making up for lost time with that hobby. But between print jobs, I’ve iterated over the base of the story and flesh out a tale I’m excited about. So, sit back and get comfortable so you can delve into July’s Fairy Tale.
Once upon a time, a young girl peered around the corner of a brick wall as her fingers whitened around the cold bricks of the building. As the owner left his store, her tongue ran across her lip as she inched out of the blind alley, “I’m not sure this is a good idea.”
A small light fluttered against her shoulder, and little feet pranced along her collarbone as her head shook. “Of course, it’s a terrible idea. You know this is wrong, return home.”
“Don’t listen to her, Elizabeth.” A dark being emerged from the building’s shadow and glided in front of the child’s face. The other fairy’s toothy grin widened as she spread her arms. “You’re hungry, and that man’s store is chock full of delicious food to fill your belly.”
“There are other options available to you, Elizabeth.” The silver light enveloping the fairy intensified as the sprite leapt from the girl’s shoulder, fluttering next to the other one. The luminescent creature shoved the figure shrouded in shadows away and darted in front of Elizabeth’s eyes. “You cannot take this first step. If you listen to Cirrus, eventually, you’ll end up seeing someone you don’t recognize whenever you see your reflection.”
The shadow clad being cackled as she flitted about the alley, slowly clapping her tiny hands.
The silver light emanating from the other fairy reddened as her lips turned down.
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So, when I delved into this fascinating technology, I researched printer after printer until I narrowed the field down to an enclosed printer designed for beginners, the FlashForge Finder. When the machine arrived, I started printing anything and everything I could pull off of Thingiverse, and with each print, I learned more about this fascinating field. After creating some home decorations and other trivial things, I realized this technology has two significant drawbacks. The first and most annoying is the speed of 3D printing. It takes a long time to print anything, and even longer as you try to increase the quality of the print. The second limitation is the printer’s build volume, and while the Finder’s build area isn’t too bad (140 mm x 140 mm x 140 mm), I yearned to print things that were bigger than the area allowed. Thankfully, with some careful planning, both limitations can be overcome. Unfortunately, through my inexperience, I fouled up the Finder’s nozzle and hot end.
I tried fixing it, but again my inexperience overcame my desire to continue with this printer, so I started searching for an upgrade. After delving into reviews and recommendations, the Creality CR-10S became the obvious choice to replace my broken printer. Again, equipped with a printer, I resumed my frenzied creation of prints off Thingiverse, for a time. Eventually, the prints that came off the new printer spilt along the layers. After trying everything I could with my limited experience, the CR-10S ended up sitting next to my Finder collecting dust.
Both of my expensive paperweights are FDM (fused deposition modeling) printers, and while they can create fantastic prints, truly exquisite prints come from SLA (Stereolithography) printing, unfortunately, those printers have always been outside of most hobbyists’ price range. Enter the new MSLA (Masked Stereolithography) printers. These machines swapped the SLA’s lasers out for an LED with an LCD mask that emitted the correct light to cure the resin. Aside from dropping the cost, these masks presented another benefit. While FDM and SLA printers have to “draw” the entire layer from the first point to the last, MSLA’s don’t share that limitation. Thanks to their mask, an MSLA printer can print an entire layer at once. It doesn’t matter how many objects are being printed. These machines print the entire X and Y axis at the same time. This means the only time sink for MSLA printing is the number of layers of the Z-axis.
This past Christmas Santa Claus brought me one of these MSLAs, the Elegoo Mars. Equipped with a new printer, I started digging into the process only to realize just how unprepared I was to print with resin. And while I’ve started figuring out how to deal with these extra problems, my excitement to use the Elegoo Mars grew. As the months dragged on, nothing happened with the Elegoo Mars and life once again impeded this hobby, until earlier this month when I shifted my attention to the Creality CR-10S sitting in my office. I freed it from the pile of junk and dusted off the Raspberry Pi that runs Octoprint and printed one piece of a camera mount for the Logitech 270 webcam. When the finished print came off the bed, I squealed for joy when it didn’t have any of the integrity issues that I’d been plagued with previously. Looking back at the previous failed prints, and this marvelously printed part, I put two and two together and realized why the CR-10S continually produced failed prints. Between these two periods of time, my air conditioner died, and I needed to replace it. Simply put, my house was too humid, which kept the layers from fusing together properly. Armed with a working FDN printer, I turned to the FlashForge, and after a brief examination, realized that with a simple part, the Finder might print once more, and while I wait for that piece to arrive, I’ve turned my attention to my resin printer. And while I’ve gotten myself close to starting my first resin print, there are still a few complications that I need to take into account, but I’m keen to get the Elegoo Mars up and running.
Having delved into this hobby again, I’m eager to tap the brakes and resume my writing. Hopefully, I’ll find the balance between these two passions. Keep an eye out for pictures of my favorite prints that come off these marvelous devices. But let me leave you with the Mug I printed courtesy of Mythic Mugs.
“Hurry!” Keldon barked as he hoisted one side of the beam. “We have to fix the wall before that oncoming horde takes advantage of the opening.”
Caleb lifted the other end with a grunt. “You’d think looming devastation might grab Tarian’s attention.”
Keldon glanced behind his shoulder as he sauntered toward the breach. “That’s enough, Caleb.” Keldon hefted the slab of metal and rolled his shoulders. “Lloyd’s death hit him hard, I doubt there’s anything that would get him back into the world.” As Keldon stumbled, his eyes latched onto Caleb. “Slow down and be careful, or I’ll end up snapping my neck.”
Caleb slowed as his head swayed, “Sorry, but it’s remarkable those monsters haven’t attacked yet.”
“Be thankful for small favors.” Keldon glanced over his shoulder as the beam fought his grasp. “Wayne, please assist us in getting this bar into position.”
When the weight lessened, Keldon whipped around, finding Tarian. “Allow me to assist you with this burden. You’ve helped me carry mine lately.”
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To continue reading the story, click here to head over to Wattpad.
Nathaniel shoved Marcus’s front door open and stormed inside. His fiery eyes latched upon the first person in sight, and Nathaniel grabbed the farmhand’s collar, pulling the worker’s face next to his. “Where is Marcus?”
The man whimpered as he tried peeling Nathaniel’s hand off his shirt.
“Nathaniel, stop intimidating my workers.” Marcus pushed the door open and sauntered in, carrying his baby girl. He crossed the room and squeezed his friend’s shoulder. “Marty, head to the fields and start feeding the livestock.” He released his friend and stepped aside. “I’ll be there once we’ve finished.”
Marty’s focus remained on Nathaniel as he crept towards the exit. When he backed into the wall, he blindly fumbled for the doorknob. The moment his fingers located the latch, he swallowed and opened the door, “On it, boss.”
After Marty vanished, Marcus pointed to the doorway he came through. “Will this revolve around the other day?”
“Amongst other things.” Nathaniel stalked through the opening and scurried to the set of chairs. As he eased into the nearest seat, the lines covering his face melted away.
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To continue reading the story, click here to head over to Wattpad.
Isaac swiveled in his chair, tossing a ball over his head. When the sphere reached the top of its arc, he grabbed it and slammed it against his console, “I’m bored.”
“Isaac, focus on successfully landing this world ship.”
The pilot sat up, turning away from his copilot and hefted it as his eyes narrowed. Isaac licked his lips while he glanced over his shoulder and chucked it at the woman sitting behind
him. “Heads up, Jasmine.”
She batted the incoming missile. “Can’t you be serious? Where did these balls come from?”
Isaac’s head turned, and he winked at Jasmine. “I’m capable of taking things seriously. However, given this ship’s level of automation, there’s nothing for me to do.”
“Does that include landing?” Jasmine asked as her fingers made quotes in the air. “Or have you forgotten about the last colony ship you piloted?”
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To continue reading the story, click here to head over to Wattpad.
The pancakes, the item I needed to work into the tale, turned into a unique quirk for my favorite wizard, Darren Gilbert. A thousand words felt inadequate to fully explore my newest creation. Following the intense desire to delve further into Darren’s history, I thought about a complementing world. It didn’t take long, but I knew exactly where to place the pancake wielding mage. When I finally returned to Darren’s life, I wound the clock back to a time before the spell slinger came into his power and created his trinket.
As I continued to follow Darren’s journey, I explored a planet I crafted but wasn’t intending to do much with. Despite that comment, I have long-term plans for Darren’s world. Thankfully, there were massive chunks of time that I intentionally left unexplored. Darren’s existence allowed me to flesh out this his surroundings, a feat that bringing me intense joy. And my pancake carrying mage isn’t my only accidental discovery.
A more recent creation is an alchemist who shares the same world and roughly the same timeframe as Darren. This new character can wield magic, but he focuses it on potions and salves. He specializes in creating a concoction that allow him to bind ghosts. He anchors those spirits to him through tattoos with his potion mixed into the ink.
I first stumbled upon Lucas when I wrote a piece of micro fiction for my Ko-Fi account. Love for another protagonist sprouted from a mere two hundred and fifty words. But that narrative created a unique individual compelling me to delve into his history and story. While running into these spontaneous characters proves to be distracting, it’s proven to be a marvelous way to enhance my skills.
I have committed to a challenge of writing something every day, and while there are time, I’m unable to achieve this, I’ll continue to strive for that goal. And as a side benefit, I can explore some of these accidental discoveries while I accomplish further work on my existing projects. Keep an eye open on my blog to discover any more unique protagonists I create while seeking to complete this challenge.
]]>A decade and a half after the expedition to Laria, Rylan, Anabelle, and her father have been guiding Tergara to new heights. Unfortunately, the Captain from that mission, Liam, does not share their goals. He and his followers are seeking to wrest control away from the traditionalists like Annabelle’s father. This new movement’s goal will transform Tergara into the capitol of a new empire based on military strength. But the traditionalists will do everything in their power to prevent this transformation.
During the previous fifteen years, the Captain has sought to embed himself into the Tergaran government championing changes to weaken the established party. His latest ploy is to alter the claim that the accident which destroyed the rest of the Larian Federation was a malicious act. Join Rylan and Annabelle as they seek a to deal with the thorn in their side.
Rylan lifted a stylus from his desk and spun to face the window on his right. The piece of plastic twirled between his fingers as he stared out the glass, taking in the magnificent view. The framed forest swayed while rays of sunlight poked through the canopy.
“You look so serious.”
Rylan’s fingers clutched around the implement as he spun, finding Annabelle leaning against the door frame of his study. With a smile, he laid the stylus down and folded his hands. “These days, I’m always somber.”
With a snort, Annabelle walked behind Rylan and started rubbing his neck, while she placed her mouth next to an ear. “You’ve been thoughtful since the day we met.”
“Trying to argue that will make me a liar.” Rylan’s fingers grabbed hers and squeezed, “So I’ll say the reasons for my thoughtfulness have changed.”
“I remember the weight dumped on your shoulders.” She pulled a hand from his grip and reached out for the tablet on the desk.
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Besides Samantha, his newest shade, the other ghost I introduced was Ricky. And while I hinted at his personality, I’m delving into their relationship. While he’s happy with the connection to the world of the living, he refuses to assist Lucas with anything.
Come, sit down and allow me to give you a mini-escape and kindle your imagination.
“Why are you leaning over the edge of a cliff? You won’t get along with the bottom.”
Lucas smiled as he patted the precipice. He lifted his sleeve and studied Samantha’s portrait. “Don’t worry. I’ve made this trip dozens of times.”
“You do not have that many tattoos,” Ricky spat.
Lucas’s hand swatted Ricky’s picture. “Be quiet!” Lucas rose, widening his stance, and spread his arms out like wings. As he exhaled, Lucas crouched down, holding the tension in his muscles. As he drew in another breath, Lucas leapt into the abyss. Ghosts fluttered from their portraits, flapping in the wind. With a smile, he glanced at Samantha’s face. “Aside from you and Ricky, my friends help me with everything, even flying.”
“Why doesn’t Ricky assist you?”
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Take a few moments and study snatti89’s illustration below. The bare trees and path combined with the drab colors immediately put me on edge for the four friend’s backpacking along the trail. I instantly wanted to scream that they were in peril.
Danger Will Robinson! Danger!
Find a comfortable place to sit down and click on the cover image to travel to Patreon to read the tale of friends marching towards danger.
A small group of friends are wandering through a forest. During their walk some go missing. Will any of them escape the impending doom…
Jillian rested against a lifeless tree and pulled her canteen from her hip. She guzzled the water inside and leaned her hair against the rough bark. “Can anyone tell me why we took this stupid hike?” She shoved her bottle onto her belt and pushed against the trunk supporting her. “I mean, we had plenty of options available to us in the city. Please explain the decision to head into the middle of nowhere!”
“It’s simple, one of Raynard’s friends told him about the lake in the heart of the forest.” Norna clapped Jillian’s back and winked as she hustled ahead of the exhausted woman. She cupped her fingers around her mouth and took in a deep breath. “Jillian is taking her shift at the rear of the line.”
“I’ll make sure that Raynard swaps with Mathias, so we resume a slower pace.”
“Jillian will thank you for that, Anna.” Norna stopped and spun with her foot bouncing off the ground. When Jillian reached her, Norna wrapped an arm about her friend and pushed her forward. “I know you’re tired, but this train is spreading out.”
Jillian wiped her forehead and smacked dry lips. “Does anyone here honestly think I’m an outdoorsy gal?”
Norna pulled the canteen from Jillian’s belt and sighed. “I am unsure how much farther we have to go to reach this spectacular sight,” she shook the bottle and let the silence ring out over the wildlife.
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With the political side of the tale locked in, I started thinking about the storyline that would frame the topic. But without a clear starting point, the story refused to start. So as always, when I’m having trouble coming up with the initial idea, I turned to NYC Midnight and their wonderful list of prompts. This time the random prompt I plucked required me to place the narrative at a Yoga Studio and to include a motorcycle.
Once I established the rough framework for the narrative, the rest of the details flowed effortlessly from my mind. Pull out your comfy chair and hunker down to read my latest Political Satire.
Ava and Camila are the only students in Ethan’s yoga class, and as they wait for their tardy instructor, they talk about the cost of living…
As the motorcycle’s engine died, Camila extended the kickstand and laid her helmet against the handles. “How are you doing, Ava?”
“Isn’t it time to drive something reasonable?”
“What’s wrong with my bike?” Camila winked as she dismounted and tapped the seat. “I keep telling you if you tried riding a motorcycle, you’d enjoy the experience.”
A shudder ran down Ava’s spine as she covered her lips. She closed her eyes and took several deep breaths. “There’s no way you’ll ever get me on one of those obnoxious contraptions. They’re too dangerous.”
Camila grabbed her helmet, flipping the visor up and threaded her arm through the opening. She plopped into the chair next to Ava, placing the protective headgear into her lap as her head whipped up and down the street. “I take it Ethan hasn’t shown up yet?”
“He’s never on time.” Ava pulled a prescription bottle from her purse and shook it. She read the label and tossed the container into her bag. “Do you believe I’d be able to run to a drugstore to get my medication refilled?”
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Darren leaned against the back wall of the dojo and watched as Wayne entered. He tapped Maxwell with a hand, whispering, “I thought Volodar preferred not forcing his students into remedial activities?”
“He doesn’t,” Maxwell elbowed Darren’s stomach and smirked. “Remember, you are not in Volodar’s advanced class. Roland and I are here for a singular reason.” Maxwell craned his neck as he studied Wayne’s motions. “I’m not sure he’ll ever tap you for those lessons.”
“You’re probably right.” Darren folded his arms over his chest and groaned. “Not that I care about that man’s approval, but should I assume we’re gathered to establish Wayne’s baseline.”
Roland draped one arm around Darren’s shoulder and his other across Maxwell’s. With a covert look at the other students, he pulled them in closer. “Without a doubt, otherwise, Maxwell and I wouldn’t have been dragged into this class.”
Maxwell peeled Roland’s limb off and smirked. “Even if Volodar presented me with the opportunity to put Wayne into his place, I’m not sure I’d take it.”
“Relax, we won’t be the first to fight our newest student. Remember, this is Wayne’s assessment process. There’s a chance he’s a better fighter than either of you believe.”
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With the general idea for the story in place, I turned to NYC Midnight’s Micro fiction prompts and plucked a Fantasy one from the list. For this snapshot of the Academy’s past, I needed to feature someone falling down the stairs and incorporate the word silence. But I needed more to craft a complete story. As the story unfolded in my mind, I must have been channeling Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets because this new work highlighted a duel between a pair of Academy students.
Come, sit down and allow me to give you a mini-escape and kindle your imagination.
Sebastian’s hands finished drawing on the floor as he shouted, “Silence!”
Aiden’s fingers flew into motion about his head, and sparks of blue and gold emerged about his skull like a thin crown. As the lights merged into a massive sphere, Aiden cupped his hand around the ball of flickering light and threw it at Sebastian.
The man smirked, and when the orb rammed into his fist, the glow fizzled out. Sebastian leered, and with a few deliberate motions of his fingers, twin bolts of energy raced from his fingertips and slammed into Aiden, knocking him to the ground.
Aiden wiped his jaw and crawled to his feet.
Sebastian’s mouth curved into a wicked sneer as he dragged his foot across the floor.
Another sphere of crackling flames erupted from Aiden’s chest, ramming into Sebastian’s invisible barrier. As the fire engulfed Sebastian, Aiden’s lips curled upward, but plummeted when the blaze cleared, revealing an uninjured and smirking Sebastian.
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The inspiration for this character was Ghost Whisperer. However, instead of helping spirits cross over, Lucas creates permanent homes for his ghosts with tattoos. I’m introducing him to my readers as he’s getting his latest toot completed.
Come, sit down and allow me to give you a mini-escape and kindle your imagination.
“How are you doing, Maxwell?”
The tattooer’s forehead fell to his desk. “Lucas, why can’t I work on your tattoos during regular business hours.”
Lucas dropped a picture and a vial of black powder onto the table. He patted Maxwell’s shoulders, placing his mouth next to the artist’s ear. “My privacy is far too valuable to come during your normal schedule.”
“I’m not comfortable using mystery additives in my ink?”
“Relax, I’ve signed all your waivers.” Lucas flicked the canister and jumped into the nearest station. “Tonight’s shading, and that requires my additive.”
Maxwell seized the vial and placed the source image onto his workstation. “Pull the bandage off while I mix your particular ink.”
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Tarian clambered to the wall’s edge and stared into the barren field. When he discovered a solitary figure, his fingers turned white around the gray stones. “When did the guest of honor appear?”
“Whatever it is, has been standing there since the sun came up,” Keldon answered.
“Keldon, who’s are best sharpshooter?” Tarian’s gaze turned ice cold as his lips curled into a snarl. “I want that thing shot immediately.”
Keldon lifted his telescope and studied the distant creature. When the scope lowered, Keldon tapped it against the wall. “I think that’s a shifter.”
“Does it matter?” Sherry demanded. “A marksman can end it, no matter what creature standing out there.”
“I’m more concerned with whatever’s beyond our field of view.” Keldon laid a hand on Tarian’s shoulder and pulled him close. “That thing’s the tip of the oncoming storm.”
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With the base story floating in my mind, the initial draft flowed through my fingertips. Each subsequent one helped to refine the story until I created my latest Fariy Tale. Please take a moment and appreciate the stunning beauty of the inspiration for my story. Once you have appreciated Nikolaj-Arndt’s work please follow the link to Enticing Vision.
Once upon a time, a girl sulked as she walked down the street with her parents. The three of them stopped by a food cart, and a sudden cracking pulled the child’s head around as she squeezed her father’s hand. As she searched for the source of the clatter, she tugged on his shirt. “Do you hear that?”
“Only the sounds of the city,” he touched her cheek and pointed at the menu. “Would you like something else, Emma?”
As the breaking intensified, the girl jumped onto her dad’s leg. “I think the sidewalk is cracking?”
Her mother bent down and squeezed her daughter. “There’s nothing wrong with the street.” She released Emma, knocking on the concrete beneath them. With a glance up to her husband, she asked, “Should we go home?”
“It’s her overactive imagination,” he helped his wife stand up and gestured at the food truck. “I’ve already told Jeffery what Emma and I want. The sooner you place your order, the quicker we can eat.”
While the child’s mother ordered, another series of cracks roared, and the girl’s arms wrapped around her father’s leg. Despite the intensifying sounds coming from the street, the child cracked her eyes open and gaped at the small flight of stairs in front of her. She tugged her dad’s arm and nodded at the forming archway at the bottom of the stairwell.
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Treant patrolling his domain, to ensure its safety…
As the sun crested the horizon, two black orbs snapped opened and focused on the warming rays. The eyelids fluttered as twin branches flexed and swayed to position its leaves to collect as much light as possible. When it could not absorb enough daylight, its trunk split, and one half stepped out of the ground. Freed from the soil, the being strode into the patch of sunlight breaking through the forest and spread its limbs wide.
The sun revitalized the creature, as a flock of birds circled about the walking tree. The treant lifted its boughs, and the songbirds weaved among its extremities. With a smile the treant smiled, spreading the twigs at the end of its branches. A bird landed upon the massive creature’s shoulder and started tweeting. The being gently caressed the tiny animal. “How are you doing, little one?”
The creature’s wings flapped wildly as it jumped and drifted in front of the treant’s face. As it hung there, a cascade of notes erupted from its beak.
“Calm down, my friend.” The steady song stopped, and the treant positioned a branch under the bird, letting it settle upon the limb. “This time, speak slowly and explain the problem from the beginning. Leave nothing out.”
As the songbird detailed its message, the flock descended beside it. When it finished, the treant’s face narrowed as a snarl formed. The living tree stomped out of the sunlight, and the birds jumped and settled about the giant’s shoulders. “How many of these creatures are attacking your homes, and my brethren?”
Every songbird began singing.
“I can’t understand this noise!”
The first bird squawked, and the rest of the flock stopped. When the forest’s silence descended about everyone, it sang a short song.
“You’re telling me a dozen invaders are harvesting my lifeless siblings?”
The songbird’s shrill tweet confirmed the number.
“Leave! Seek protection among the trees while I handle this problem.” The birds chirped and leapt into the sky, streaking away while the treant rushed for the nearby mountain range. As the clearing came into focus, the treant stopped and leaned against an inanimate sibling. Closing its eyes, the giant tapped the tree and snarled at his siblings’ slaughter. “I will protect you.” It glanced to his left and his right and clenched its twigs into clubs. “I’ll defend you all!”
The treant strode closer to the edge of the forest and spotted the party of squat warriors. Each of those diminutive creatures hacked at the treant’s inert family with giant battleaxes. The guardian growled, slamming its blunted branches upon the ground, shaking everything in the vicinity. The treant continued striking the earth until each of the invaders fell. It rose and howled in rage. “Stop assaulting my brethren!”
The warriors turned, gaping at the living tree, and climbed to their feet. The largest of the brutes whirled his ax. He shoved it towards the guardian. “To arms!”
The other assailants retrieved their weapons and rushed the treant, each screaming their own battle cry.
The treant froze and waited for the invaders. When the first invader reached the treant, its club connected with the attacker’s skull. As the body collapsed, the treant grabbed the necks of two more. As its branches tightened, the treant lifted a squat figure to its snarling lips. “Stop attacking my defenseless brethren.”
The largest warrior’s ax blade embedded itself into the treant’s leg. “Drop Berend and Avamir!” The invader yanked his weapon from the creature. “Or I swear I’ll turn you into firewood!”
The treant raised the squirming individual in his right hand and wielded him as if he were a club, striking the assailant at its feet.
As the leader flew into a tree, the other warriors cried out, “Dain, are you okay?”
The treant turned, facing the remaining invaders. Without hesitation, the treant threw the attackers clutched in its hands, and they functioned like cannonballs, knocking the rest of the invaders off their feet. “Leave my forest!”
Dain pushed himself up and lifted his battleax. He glanced at his comrades and growled as he shoved his weapon into the air. “Your body will stock my hearth for the foreseeable future!”
The treant backed away as his hand touched a nearby tree. “Brother, please give me your strength.” With a loud crack, a limb fell to the ground, and the treant lifted the fallen branch, snarling as Dain charged. The treant swung, striking Dain’s chest, throwing the assailant into a neighboring trunk. The treant whirled the improvised weapon down upon another goon, who joined the fray, driving the newcomer into the earth.
Dain ducked under the next strike and drove his ax into the treant’s other leg.
The branch tumbled out of the treant’s grip. Disarmed the treant’s limb darted out, gripping Dain’s skull and squeezed. “Get out of my forest!”
Dain thrashed against the tree’s grasp, unleashing muffled screams.
More of the assailants rose and reclaimed their weapons, inching closer to the treant.
The treant squeezed its twigs and branches, eliciting a scream from Dain. “Stay right there, or your leader will never return home.”
The encroaching invaders stopped as Dain’s squeals intensified.
“Go away and stop attacking my brethren!” The treant tossed Dain like another cannonball at the remaining assailants. But this time, they avoided the living projectile. The treant rose and brandished the branch. “Leave my forest or suffer our wrath!”
Dain coughed as a pair of hands pulled him off the forest’s floor. The leader ground his teeth and scowled. “You’ve won this battle, but we’ll return.”
“I’ll never surrender my brethren!” When the assailants vanished, the treant lurched over to the tree, which lent him the branch. The treant pressed it against the trunk and waved its limb over the break, enticing the bark to secure the branch. When the bark finished knitting itself together, the treant staggered over to a different one. The protector stepped into the sibling and merged with it. “I will protect you all.”
]]>“He’s in a meeting,” Amelia said, stepping in front of Nathaniel’s door, “he wants no interruptions.”
Marcus gripped the woman’s shoulders and moved her out of his way. “I doubt Nathaniel is talking with anybody important enough to keep me waiting.”
She slipped out of his hands and stepped between Marcus and the entrance. As a scowl formed, she placed her hand on his chest. “No, Nathaniel doesn’t want anyone, especially you, to interrupt his current meeting.”
Marcus wiped his face as a sigh rushed out. “Amelia, normally, I’d be happy to wait.” He reached out and eased her away from the door and wrapped his hands around the knob. “But there is a significant issue that requires his immediate attention.”
The moment Marcus opened the office, Nathaniel’s voice ripped through the quiet antechamber. “Amelia, I told you not to let anyone interrupt this meeting!”
Marcus pushed his head into the room, ignoring the lady sitting across from Nathaniel, and offered a lopsided grin. “Don’t blame her.” Without waiting for a reply, Marcus slipped inside, closing the door. He sauntered to the bar and froze when he identified the woman. “Kethra, do not mind me. I’ll pour myself a drink and wait patiently here.”
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From the onset, we are reminded there are multiple incarnations of Larry Correia. The first is the writer who later “publishes” an audiobook of Tom Stranger’s activities. The other is known as the Interdimensional Lord of Hate, and he’s the richest man in all the multiverse. Unfortunately, for the author Larry Correia, his story didn’t conform to Tom Stranger’s expectations. The discussion is used to show Tom’s misunderstanding of the intricacies of the novelist’s, Larry Correia, dimension.
After the conference, Tom Stranger roles into his junior associates’ reviews. As he plows through them, he gets to the one he’d been dreading, Jimmy, the intern. While the previous story’s events impressed Tom enough to give Jimmy a chance, the lad proves unable to live up to the expectations of an Interdimensional Insurance Agent/Intern. The highlight of Jimmy’s incompetence comes when Tom is told about Jimmy’s attempt to sell a plan to a potential client. The only problem is Jimmy’s belief that the prospective customer is a head of cabbage.
From there you should assume that Jimmy is the primary source of the book’s humor, and Larry Correia delivers it perfectly. The story quickly splits into two different narratives, one following Jimmy’s journey and the other watching Tom’s investigation of Wendell the Manatee’s kidnapping. Pull out a comfortable chair and pick up the latest entry in the adventures of Tom Stranger, Interdimensional Insurance Agent.
]]>A wandering stranger stumbles into town during a snowstorm…
Posted by ElfWatcher.com on Friday, December 27, 2019
A wanderer adjusted his position against the tree as he lifted his palm. When a snowflake landed against it, he shook it from his hand and climbed to his feet. The man dragged his hair from his face and pulled his spare cloak from his pack and wrapped it around his shoulders. He gripped his bag under his mantle as he strode toward the road. As he neared it, the drifter checked both sides of the path before easing out from the underbrush.
As the snow clung to him, the man tugged the outer garment tighter about his neck and forced his legs to slog through the growing mounds. After walking for what felt like an eternity, the traveler noticed a structure hugging the horizon, and his steps quickened. When he reached the building, his trembling hand touched its rough stone.
A grin erupted as his fingers traced the chiseled rock. He cocked his head, and his smile widened when he inventoried the surrounding buildings. He ignored the blacksmith and various merchants. When his eyes landed upon the inn, he dashed toward its entrance and uselessly yanked the door. With a grimace, the traveler’s fist slammed against the sturdy wood. “Is anyone there!”
The panel creaked as a set of fierce eyes appeared in the crack. “There aren’t any rooms available. You must look elsewhere.”
“Please,” the traveler cried as he wedged his foot into the doorway. “No one could survive this snowstorm.”
“I cannot allow you to enter,” the innkeeper replied.
The man pulled a stone from his pack, flashing the brilliant green gem to the owner. “I can pay.”
The innkeeper shook his head as he shoved the door. “Money isn’t the problem, this storm thunders through every year, and my storeroom isn’t endless. If you stay here, my supplies won’t keep us all fed during this storm, and that jewel in your fist will feed none of my patrons.”
“When’s this snowstorm going to blow itself out?”
“Based on previous years, it’s likely to last days.”
The drifter pocketed the gem, wedging his boot further into the opening. “Please, I’ll take a quarter of what you give everyone else.” He glanced down both sides of the path, adding, “There’s not another inn in view.”
“Do you want me to go hungry?”
The wanderer shouldered the door open and barged inside. “I’ll perform any task you require, just don’t make me leave.”
The innkeeper hauled the drifter to his feet and threw him against the wall. “There are Dwarven holds scattered throughout this mountain range, you’ll find one eventually, but I’m not risking my patrons for you!”
As a slender hand touched the innkeeper’s shoulder, its owner leaned in and asked, “Alper, does the gem exist?”
The innkeeper’s arm slid towards the wanderer’s throat. “He may have a gemstone as big as your fist, Juliana. But I don’t have the extra supplies for him.”
Another person gripped Alper’s wrist and eased it away from the wanderer. “Juliana and I will come to an arrangement with him for a stone of that size if he’s willing to part with it.”
The drifter rubbed at his throat and tossed the jewel at the man.
Juliana’s hand darted out, plucking it out of the air. She raised it toward the torch and scrutinized it. “Thomas, this gem is flawless.”
Alper’s fingers gripped his neck. “I won’t let my patrons eat less to feed a vagabond.”
Julianna handed the stone to Thomas and squeezed his arm. “It’s not a sacrifice to split our meals with him for that gemstone.”
The slender man clapped the innkeeper’s back and turned him away from the wanderer. “I believe Juliana explained our conviction to share with this unfortunate traveler. And since we are voluntarily trading a portion of our food, you don’t have to worry.”
Alper stared at the drifter and cursed, “It’s on your heads!”
“Enough! Those two have made their choice,” a man decreed as he entered the foyer. “If they die because of Julianna’s greed, it’s not your fault, so wash your hands of their desires for the gemstone. However, I’d like to receive my evening meal.”
The innkeeper nodded and scowled at the wanderer. “I’ll see you get your food, Kincade.” He turned and shoved the intruder’s chest, muttering, “Keep out of my way, because you should be tossed back into that snowstorm to suffer the consequences of your actions.”
The intruder bobbed his head as he swallowed a lump in his throat.
When the innkeeper vanished, Thomas nudged the man’s side. “Don’t worry about Alper. He has plenty of supplies to handle another person.”
“He always overestimates the amount of food he’ll require during this yearly event,” Juliana added.
The wanderer dropped his pack to the floor, rubbing his bicep as he curled his arm. “Thank you for helping me.”
“You gave us the gem,” Juliana replied, stealing the rock from Thomas. “We should thank you.”
Thomas retrieved the stone and tossed it between his hands. “For someone to surrender this, they must possess something even more valuable.”
“That’s a valid point,” Juliana answered. She cocked her head and stared at the jewel. “What could you possibly have that makes surrendering that gem worthwhile?”
The mystery man looked at the pair before him and waved them closer. When they eased closer, the drifter wrapped his arms around their shoulders. “I have a map that promises a treasure worth a thousand times the price of that pebble.”
Thomas grinned as he tossed the jewel into the air and snatched it. He glanced at Juliana, and as soon as she nodded, he nudged the wanderer’s arm. “That’s something that piques our interest, would you need any aid tracking that treasure?”
“I’ll never turn away freely offered help,” the man replied.
“Excellent,” Julianna squealed as she grabbed the gem and shoved it into her pocket. “What’s your name?”
“My name’s Daylen,” the drifter answered, offering his hand to Thomas. “Making friends is wonderful.”
]]>Olyver walked into the restaurant, and the hostess pulled him aside. “Please follow me, sir.”
“My regular booth is over there,” Olyver replied as he tried to walk out of the woman’s grip.
A man gripped Olyver’s neck with meaty fingers. “I believe she told you to stick with her.”
With a shudder, Olyver shoved his hands into his pockets. He jerked his head up and down and muttered, “If you insist, Jeras. Helen, please lead the way.”
The hostess bowed her head and spun on her heels, leading them into the restaurant’s depths. She approached a booth with a couple sitting on one side. Helen gestured to the empty bench as she studied the floor. “I’ll be back with your regular meal.”
“Thank you, Helen,” Olyver replied as he slid into the requested seat.
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A lot of the headlines were talking about how most states were in some kind of process of reopening, and then the swirling ideas solidified into a fledgling concept. Dropping my protagonist into the Karaoke bar that has a handful of regulars, without wearing a mask and have her recovered from the disease felt like the right way to go. As the story continued to flesh out, the interactions became vivid in my mind, helping me finish the tale. Pull out a chair and follow my narrative of how someone wins over a small but boisterous crowd.
Having endured a trial, Kathy is in search of a pleasurable night out, but when she enters a karaoke bar, she’s met with hostility…
Kathy slipped through the entrance and watched three sets of eyes latch onto her. Her hand flew to her mouth as she dashed to the bar and tapped on the counter. “What’s available to drink here?”
The bartender pulled out a laminated page and slid it to Kathy.
She lifted the card and pounded her forehead with her palm. “Don’t you have any regular drinks?”
Shaking his head, the bartender snatched the list of canned cocktails.
“Fine,” Kathy huffed as her eyes closed. “I’ll take a couple of hard lemonades.”
The bartender opened the refrigerator and collected the requested beverages. He placed the bottles on the counter and laid an opener on the bar.
“I don’t require that.” Kathy rose and grabbed her drinks. She tucked a drink under an arm and used the opener on her key chain to open the other. Kathy sipped the beverage as she sauntered over to the karaoke machine.
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Even while I’ve explored Darren’s past with Journeys, but I always wanted to do more with the wizard. While it took me a while to connect the dots, I eventually realized that I’d be able to use Patreon for that purpose. And so whenever a Fantasy is selected in the polls, I’m ready to explore additional aspects of this cantankerous mage’s existence. With the character in place, I dove into previous NYC Midnight challenges and pulled one out of the pot and discovered that I needed to drop my cranky mage into a costume shop. Thankfully, my notes of this man’s timeline are well thought out, so I had a straightforward way to drag the grumpy wizard into that situation. Sit back and follow the link to delve into the Story of Darren and Randall as they meander about the store searching for an outfit to wear for a costume party that Randall tricked Darren into attending.
Randall drags Darren to a costume store. And while they search for something for the masquerade, a mysterious woman makes a delivery…
“How did you convince me into agreeing to this foolishness?”
The lithe boy smiled, clapping Darren’s back as he opened the door. Randall’s hand guided Darren into the store, as his grin transformed into a smirk. “We’re here to prepare for the masquerade party tonight.”
“I don’t require dressing up in a foolish outfit to enjoy myself.”
“Darren, despite your constant protests,” Randall stated, lifting an item off the shelf. “You can’t lock yourself away in your home and ignore the rest of the world.” Randall laid the clothing across his chest and donned the mask. “What do you think of this?”
Darren inhaled through his nose as he hung the ware wolf costume back on the rack. “You shouldn’t want to appear that foolish.”
“You used to enjoy these kinds of parties.”
Darren shook his head and walked through the aisle, letting his fingertips trace the outfits. “I’ve turned my attention to other pursuits.” With a huff, Darren spun around and tugged his hair. “How did I let you talk me into this stupid outing?”
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With this last entry in Fortunes, my mind began toying with the next storyline to explore the technician’s world. And I needed a way to both complete this storyline and prepare the next one. Hopefully, I’ve accomplished this balancing act. Join me as I put a pin in this long-running series about loss and discovery.
Rylan parted the curtains and stared out the window. “You could have told me just how powerful your family is.”
“True, but it wouldn’t have been fun otherwise,” Annabelle answered as she crossed the room and leaned against the wall. She jabbed his stomach with her elbow and grinned. “Though I doubt you would have listened to me since you never shared that kind of information.”
With a grunt, Rylan let the curtain fall. “You know I did what the situation required of me.”
Annabelle flung the curtains apart and slid the door open. She took a deep breath of the air and beckoned Rylan to join her on the terrace. Without waiting to see if he obeyed, she strode out and leaned against the railing.
“Do you honestly think your family can shelter us?”
Annabelle smirked as her elbow flew into Rylan’s side. “With the crystals you liberated from the storage assembly, Daddy’s already one-upped the Captain’s incomplete hard copy of the incident.”
“That’s not surprising considering it wasn’t a complete report.” Rylan rested against the rail. “I assume the other crystals will solidify our efforts.”
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Both of the aforementioned series possess some similar aspects, but they generate an enjoyable narrative. But when I started listening to Tom Stranger’s adventure, it quickly became clear that he upended the familiar recipe. Instead of presenting us with a big and muscular hero, we’re introduced to an average man who travels between dimensions dedicating his entire life to providing the best customer service possible. And while Larry Correia has humor in his other writing, it’s not to this extreme.
The tale’s comedy focusses around Tom’s newest intern, who isn’t up to interdimensional insurance agent standards, quickly becomes a noose about our hero’s neck. Through each chapter, we get front row seats to a normal day for our protagonist, who displays not just his enhanced strength but his sharp mind. Fans of Larry Correia’s other work will enjoy picking up this short tale. While he doesn’t go into all the typical details about the guns in his story, he delves into our hero’s principal weapon and all of its capabilities.
The action is well done and moves at a quick pace. The comedic relief is expertly done, and while the intrepid and customer-centric insurance agent is set in his desire to deliver top-quality service to his customers, Tom’s journey brings him to a moment of clarity as he deals with his newest intern.
]]>My random prompt for this tale required me to place the narrative in a laundromat and feature a rain jacket. With a little more thought, and a pair of false starts, the story took shape. Come on and follow the link to hear the tale of a young child dashing into a laundromat as he tries to escape his pursuers.
A child enters a laundromat frightened, searching for someone to help him. He finds the only person in the building. Will this man help…
A frail adolescent boy shouldered the laundromat’s door open and slammed it shut. He slid down the glass, gasping as his body shuddered. When his breathing evened out, the child rose and stared outside. He turned around and ran his fingers through his hair as he registered the rows of washing and drying machines. His head swayed as he darted across the aisles. When he came to the last one, his eyes widened.
The man standing at the end of the line of appliances leaned against the walls reading a newspaper. The boy’s tongue licked his lips as he glanced back at the door. He ducked into the row and shuffled toward the individual wrapped in his rain jacket.
Without looking, the older man turned the page and cleared his throat. “What do you want?”
The child cringed and backed away from the towering man.
“Don’t flinch, I won’t bite.”
“I’m sorry,” the boy whimpered.
The man folded his broadsheet and opened his slicker and slipped the paper into the inner pocket. He turned to the child and drifted toward him and kneeled next to him.
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Darren drew a handful of letters out of his box and hurried up the stairs. As he emerged from the stairwell, Darren flipped through the missives. He ignored the pair from his parents, but smiled when he found his friend’s handwriting. With a grin, he stuffed his parent’s notes into a pocket and opened Randall’s. He removed the paper and shoved the door open with his shoulder.
Maxwell turned around, leaning against his chair. “What are you reading, Darren?”
“A letter,” Darren muttered, waving the missive as he crossed the room and slipped into his desk. Darren pressed the note to his chest, adding, “I left your mail in the box.”
“Who’s it from?” Maxwell asked, twirling a pencil.
Darren lifted an eye and glowered over the paper. “Does it matter?”
“No,” Maxwell replied through a lopsided smile. He leaned over the chair and pointed towards the door. “I’m just looking to strike up a conversation, you’ve been spending all your time with Wayne.”
“You don’t like him,” Darren commented as he lowered the letter. “I thought you were keen on judging people after getting to know them.”
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Tarian lifted his head from his desk, gripping his forehead. With a groan, he swiveled around, searching for the origin of the blaring sound. When he couldn’t locate the source of the racket, he started blinking the sleep from his eyes and stumbled towards the window. He propped himself in front of the opening and stared out across the open patch of field and saw the alarm lights of the munitions storehouse flashing. As his gaze followed the whirling beams, the commotion clicked into place. Tarian spun, rushing from his quarters.
When he burst from the building, Tarian dashed towards the depot. But as he crossed the courtyard, a hand gripped him. Tarian reached back and tugged on the figure, screaming, “What are you trying to steal from us?”
“Nothing,” Lloyd whimpered as his face paled, and his fingers attempted to break Tarian’s grasp. “But rushing headlong into a raid isn’t your best idea.”
As Tarian relaxed his grip, he spun towards the building as his hand flew for a weapon. Unfortunately, he found an empty holster. He cursed as he wheeled back on Lloyd. “Do you have a spare gun?”
Lloyd drew a pistol and stared at his extra handgun. With a snort, he thrust it towards Tarian. “Next time, why don’t you grab something to defend yourself before you try to take on a mystery.”
“Just give me the gun,” Tarian barked as he snatched the weapon. He aimed the small firearm at the depot and inched forward.
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Marcus hopped off the train and started stretching his limbs. With a sigh, he took a deep breath of fresh salty air and sighed. “If it weren’t for dangerous predators, I’d enjoy life here.”
“Unless you’re attempting to disembark,” Wayne quipped. He jostled Marcus’s shoulder, adding, “Marcus, are you planning on pitching a tent?”
With a hearty laugh, Marcus stepped away from the train’s door. “Come and join me.” He waved at his men and started walking towards the bay. “We have plenty of supplies to pick up from the fishmongers.”
With a wry chuckle, Bret pushed Wayne’s back, knocking him to the ground. “You heard the man, let’s go help the boss.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Wayne grumbled as he steadied himself. “After you.”
Marcus whirled around while he continued heading for the harbor. “Stop goofing off and catch up. There’s far too much to accomplish…”
“Yet never enough time to complete it all,” Bret finished.
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Come around, and I’ll tell you the story of a pair of friends, one thrilled to emerge from the confines of her home while and the other terrified that she will catch the disease. Stacy, the fearless one, convinces Lucile to visit a wax museum that poorly picked its opening.
When their governor lifts the lockdown, Stacey drags Lucile to a newly opened museum. Will they be fine, or will they catch the bug…
Lucile lifted her mask over her nose and climbed out of her car. As her door slammed shut, she stared at the unassuming building looming in front of her. Her fingers adjusted the cloth covering her face as she marched toward the structure. When Lucile finished climbing the stairs, she caught sight of her friend, lounging on the bench just to the right of the entrance. “Stacey, why are we going to a wax museum?”
“To see the exhibits,” Stacy replied as she shifted her mask. The fabric stretched as she leaned forward. “That’s the reason people visit galleries?”
With a fierce sigh, Lucile slammed her hands against her thighs. “We’re in the middle of a quarantine! Why isn’t this place closed?”
“We aren’t dealing with a lockdown anymore.” Stacey quipped as she spun around and scampered through the wooden doors. “With the governor lifting the stay at home order and all. Besides, the museum is finally open, and we planned on coming before life was turned upside down.”
“Just because our dopey officials have lifted that restriction, doesn’t mean that we should be here.” Lucile stared at the parking lot and added. “This world-wide pandemic has gone nowhere.”
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Quinn tapped his desk and looked over the proposal. When he finished going over the document, he dropped the pad and groaned. He glared at Olyver and took a lengthy breath. “Caitlin, is there any reason you’ve abandoned the plan we originally detailed?”
Caitlin nodded as she picked up the device. “We have four additional colonies to establish in this system.”
“And we don’t have the resources to do that all at once,” Quinn rebuked, slamming his hand down to punctuate his words.
Olyver’s lips curled into a mocking grin. He folded his hands behind his back and tilted his head. “The supporting documentation about the population are included in the pad. Didn’t you read through those sections?”
With a growl, Quinn lifted the device. “Yes, Olyver, I scrutinized the entire report.” He tossed it at the triumvir and continued. “But as usual you’re shortsighted. If we press on with our colonization efforts before each colony establishes itself all the colonies will fail, including Aurora.”
“That’s not entirely true,” Caitlin replied. She sauntered next to Quinn and kneeled, taking his hand in hers. She withdrew another pad and placed it into his. “Don’t forget that Aurora was a world ship.”
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Rylan sat down at his desk and opened a direct connection to Annabelle’s cabin. The screen flashed up with Annabelle’s face, and Rylan grinned. “Are you prepared for the escape?”
“First,” Annabelle muttered as she lifted a gem. “Tell me how you got this crystal into my quarters.”
With a smile, Rylan tapped his chin. “I’ll give you one guess.”
“You had Darvan deliver this,” she groaned, striking her forehead with her palm.
“Not just yours,” Rylan admitted. “He deposited a copy to everyone on the shuttle.”
Annabelle tossed the gem into the air and caught it as it plummeted. “You planned on the Captain breaking up that meeting.”
“Yes,” Rylan said, lifting his back. He grabbed some stuff off his desk and shoved them into the bag. “With as volatile as he and the rest of the crew have become, they needed to stop anything.”
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Having fixed the inner workings of the story in place, I started working on how to introduce a bale of hay and give the tale a little sense of unexpected danger. While I haven’t written many Fairy Tales, I’ve come to enjoy them, and I hope that you appreciate Samantha’s journey.
A child racked with fear about her grandmother’s life runs when she overhears the dire news concerning her grandmother’s health…
A small girl huddled under her grandmother’s bed, her head hanging between her knees. She whimpered as she listened to the doctor’s talking to her mother.
“We’re running out of options,” a doctor said.
“What are our alternatives?” The girl’s mother asked.
“We are looking at more unusual procedures,” another physician replied.
The child held her breath, clambering out from under the bed, and dashed for the exit. She wiped her eyes as she shouldered through the doctors, bursting into the hallway.
“Samantha!” the child’s mother cried out.
The girl’s shoulders hunched as she tore down the hall and ducked down a corridor and then another until she came upon an empty room. She sidestepped into it and eased the door closed behind her. With a soft thump, she threw her back against the wall and slid to the floor, burying her face into her hands as the tears flowed. When something tapped her shoulder, the child’s head snapped up and swiveled around.
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As with the previous installments, our detectives are tossed into the deep end almost immediately. This time they’re greeted by the leader of the Dark Council, though she’s suffering from a potentially fatal wound. And while Simon and Tristan are pursuing the answers to the attack on Michiko, Tristan’s use of a void vortex in Full Moon Howl was not overlooked by his old order. And unlike a friendly customer at a deli, the mages seeking to capture Tristan refuse to take their number and get in line for a chance to catch their wayward mage.
The main issue that I’ve had with this series rears its ugly head once more, Simon’s inability to die. Throughout the entire book, many references are made to his special situation, and I’m never genuinely afraid that he’s ever in any actual danger. And just like before, the author’s attempt to make us fearful for Simon’s life falls short, or to quote Maxwell Smart:
Missed it by that much.
Though we’re finally gifted with some true insight into why Simon’s circumstances are so unique, but you’ll miss it if you’re not paying attention. As the final words of the novel lingered in my mind, I remembered the last sentence of my review of Full Moon Howl:
But the series is too good to avoid while I wait for the Audible version of the book…
Unfortunately, the ending was like a bucket of ice water falling on my head. Books should always have a beginning, a middle, and an end. There are some series that flaunt this mandate, essentially becoming a serialized tome. There can be ample reasons to defer minor plot points to future stories; however, something that accompanies the primary storyline for the entire manuscript should not be ignored as the novel comes to a close. And with this case file, Orlando Sanchez leaves several threads flapping in the wind with Blood Is Thicker. Presumably, he will wrap them all up with the next installment of Montague & Strong, Silver Clouds Dirty Sky, but I’m not eager to get strung along. With that said, the characters are interesting enough that when it’s available on Audible, and if I have a spare credit, I might pick it up.
]]>Roland guided an unfamiliar individual into the cafeteria. With a sigh, he bolted toward his classmates, sitting down between Maxwell and Darren. Jerking his thumb at the lithe figure behind him, Roland sighed. “Everyone, this is the Academy’s newest student, Wayne Iydril.”
The fresh face brushed blond hair out of his eyes as he pulled out the vacant seat across from Roland. Wayne lifted an eyebrow and examined each of the gathered students. “Nice to see you all.”
Roland groaned, scooping food into his bowl. He knocked the clinging bits off the utensil and pointed it toward the others. “Wayne, this is Maxwell Creegan, Darren Gilbert, Norry Haysmith, Semil Bellas, Elayne Reinfield, and Kira Ibryiil.”
While the others acknowledged the newcomer, Darren dropped his spoon into his stew and leaned against his chair. “How are you doing, Wayne?”
The young man looked down his nose at the gathered pupils, claiming the serving ladle. He eased the utensil into the thick liquid as he stirred the stew. “Is this the best cuisine we’re served?”
Darren scrunched his face and scooped a mouthful of the stew. With a flourish, he shoved it into his mouth and started speaking around the bite. “The food is delicious.”
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With the bare bones of a locale and the prompt firmly entrenched in my mind, I began delving into how to make the narrative work. Transformation is a sci-fi series, so I thought about how I could create a futuristic subway station, until I remembered the beginning of the tale. This civilization has the technology to traverse solar systems via platforms, so I made a slight adaption to their technology to make them smaller to replace traditional subways with these daises. Sit down and get comfortable as we delve into the story.
As a couple walks off the waystation and a set of thugs brandishing weapons encircled them. Will the couple be the latest victims…
The couple stepped off the small dais and basked in the illumination emanating from the strips running along the walls. The man extended his arm, and the woman latched onto it as they walked away from the waystation. As a grin emerged, he reached out and traced her chin. “What’s our schedule for this evening?”
She bit her lower lip as her eyes flitted from his face to the surroundings. “What is available in this part of the capitol?”
“A plethora of options,” he replied, shrugging his shoulder. “There are theaters throughout this district, not to mention plenty of fine restaurants.” His grin broadened as he tugged her closer and licked his lips. “Though, the platform could whisk us to the coast.” With a wink, he kissed her forehead, adding, “There we could take a stroll along the beach basking in the sunset and the cresting waves.”
Her eyes widened at the suggestion and drifted toward the dais. “Jarrett, that last one sounds like a wonderful way to spend the evening.”
As the two approached the platform, a shadowy figure emerged from the darkest recesses, brandishing a small knife. “I’m sorry to interrupt such amorous plans. But as the locally appointed tax collector, I must collect the funds to use this waystation.” The thug stepped toward the pair and pressed the blade’s edge against Jarrett’s shoulder. “Shall I examine you for the required payment?”
“Is this fool serious?”
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How long can the world’s only necromancer cheat Death?
That is the leading question of the book’s Product Description, and it’s a tantalizing inquiry. Suitably intrigued by the book and having an extra credit, I pulled the trigger and dove into the new urban fantasy. As soon as I finished listening to Soul of the Never, I started reading M.R. Forbes’s tale.
The book begins with the protagonist completing a job, though it takes a while for him to wield his power. Though the moment he embraces his talent, there is no going back. Before the first encounter can finish, Conor accepts another contract, and his life gets turned upside down. The action is well paced and at the forefront of the story. However, the author doesn’t skimp on character development. As the tale progresses, we are treated to time jumps to explore Conor’s history and how it affects his present and future.
Besides getting an excellent insight into the world’s only known Necromancer, M.R. Forbes weaves a wonderfully unique and exciting take on magic. In this world, magic existed once before, but shortly after its birth, the phenomenon reversed itself. And as time marched on another shift occurred, and the supernatural flooded back, bringing all kinds of exotic creatures and wizards. Each mage can wield one or more frequencies of magic. Unfortunately for Conor, his slice of the magical spectrum comes with a terrible catch. To be a Necromancer, the person in question needs to be dying, and the protagonist is no exception.
The premise rolled on and delivered a fantastic read, and while I plan to pick up the next book, this series is intended for a more mature audience. Keep that in mind while you consider adding Dead of Night to your library.
]]>Keldon grabbed Tarian’s shoulder and spun him around. In the blink of an eye, Tarian closed the distance with his friend and shoved him into the wall. Keldon’s brow furrowed as he took in a deep breath and rammed his finger into Tarian’s chest. “Tarian, you can’t keep bothering the scientists.”
“Caleb secured their shifting monstrosity,” Tarian retorted. He brushed Keldon’s hands off and straightened his jacket. “Didn’t you listen to Caleb? We have to defend ourselves!”
“I know,” Keldon responded, lifting his palms. “But you’re not helping them.”
Tarian took a deep breath and rubbed his temples, “If that monster had approached either you or Engrim, we wouldn’t be having this conversation.” His hands gripped Keldon’s jacket and pulled him closer. “So, if my constant visits help expedite their work, then it’s worth it.”
“But they don’t,” Keldon protested as he shouldered out of his friend’s grasp and faced him. “And that’s exactly what I’m trying to tell you. Your trips blow everything up, and it takes forever to settle down once you leave.”
Tarian’s face scrunched as he stared into the sky as his hand gripped the doorknob. With a twist, he shoved the door open, muttering, “They’ll get over it. Caleb required ten darts to secure his doppelganger.”
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“Preston, get over here!” Marcus cried as he spurred his horse towards the fence line. As the horse thundered across the grassland, he glanced back at the herd, catching sight of his helper. Marcus’s eyes whipped around, and he tugged on the reins as his mount drew close to the barrier.
“What’s so important?” Preston asked as he pulled up alongside his boss.
Marcus withdrew his telescope and studied the horizon as he inquired, “How are the newest hands working out?”
Preston leaned forward and patted his horse’s neck. “They seem to be fine,” he replied as he straightened and laid his palms on the pommel. “They’re a little green, like me when I arrived.”
“Are they picking up on their responsibilities?” Marcus asked as he set the telescope across his lap. He turned towards his helper and added, “I know I haven’t paid enough attention to their development as I did with you.”
Preston’s hand gripped his side as his lips quivered.
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Something wants our world…and it’s coming through her to get it!
Katheryne, a kick-ass Irish heroine, and Derren, her dimension-hopping boyfriend, along with a ragged team of misfits, are pitted against the powers of darkness; powers that want to free magic – and their malevolent god – from its ancient prison.
The fate of two worlds lies in their hands, so cue time-travel. Cue epic battles.
The premise intrigued me, so I cracked it open and give it a listen. Despite the story being gripping, it was hard to follow. The chapter titles helped place the reader into the appropriate context, but even with the cues it was jarring to constantly jump from place to place and year to year. While the multiple story lines that the author wove together enhanced the overall story line, but with less jarring jumps, the tale would have been more cohesive.
With all the jumps, CJ Rutherford introduces new characters and locations left and right. While the core of the narrative takes place in Ireland, the author planted enough details to make the various worlds and the important characters compelling. Neither the worlds nor the characters felt flat or underdeveloped.
That said, I think this is one of those books that is best enjoyed with subsequent readings. That way you can focus on the details of the story without having to tread water to keep the various timelines and places in mind. With all that said, the ultimate twist of the narrative was perfectly done and expertly delivered.
There were plenty of loose threads dangling at the conclusion, and while I typically like to unravel those threads, I’m tentative about continuing with the series based on how much the first book jumped every which way.
]]>Olyver inhaled the aromas wafting up from the food arrayed before him. As he extracted the silverware from his napkin, the triumvir licked his lips. Olyver dragged the knife’s edge along the tines of his fork, stopping when the plate slid across the table. He followed the motion, discovering two men and a woman occupying the opposite bench. Olyver’s eyes darted among the trio and the exit as the utensils tumbled out of his grip, clattering on the table.
As the clanging settled, the woman bent down, taking a deep inhalation. “This chef can do marvelous things.”
“Ur… Ursula…” Olyver stuttered. As his hands flew together. “It’s a pleasure to see you.”
She reached out and plucked the fallen utensils and sliced off a bite. “If that’s true, you wouldn’t be shaking so badly,” she purred as a wicked smile took hold at the edges of her lips. “But since you never contacted us, we decided we needed to come and visit you.”
“Nonsense,” Olyver insisted as he forced himself deeper into the booth. “It’s just a surprise to find you here.”
The woman popped the morsel into her mouth and started chewing.
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When I pick up an Urban Fantasy, I’m expecting a certain format, especially with the protagonist. Typically, they are well versed with their magic and the world of the supernatural. But this time, we get a protagonist that is blissfully unaware about the darker world around her, which allows for a unique tale.
Despite being ignorant about the supernatural, the protagonist, Sasha Urban, is not clueless. She’s smart as smart as they come and can take disparate facts and make the right conclusions, which she uses for her day job. However, her genuine passion is performing magic, which is where the story begins.
As a stage illusionist, she is the perfect skeptic for the paranormal, even when it gets shoved into her face. Her analytical mind tries to explain it away with rational explanations. However, as her exposure to the darker secrets of the supernatural continue to increase, it gets harder for her to ignore the only logical conclusion. As the action intensifies, she connects the disparate facts and reluctantly accepts her new normal.
As she explores the supernatural world, we’re treated to a little exposition into the magic system of this unknown world, and it’s unique and engaging. With each character that enters this fresh life of hers, the characters get developed as the world is explored.
Overall, I enjoyed read, but when I looked at the next book in the series, I got the impression that it would delve into the romantic side of things. Unfortunately, I’m not that into the romance side of literature, so I’ll leave this series unexplored. But for those who like an Urban Fantasy with Romance undertones, you should look into the Sasha Urban series.
]]>A sorceress uses magic to steal a crystal…
Taitha’s silk shawl whipped behind her as she walked down the street. When she came to a particular building, she halted, turning to face the entrance and grinned. With a glance to each side, she stepped up to the doors, touching the clasp on her belt, and strode through the thick wooden panels. Once inside, she hurried to the map of the interior.
The lithe elf placed her finger on the picture, tracing the floors. Her head shook as she dismissed each room until her fingertip landed on the image titled ‘The Library.’ As she traced the best route to her destination, her smirk widened, flashing her toothy smile at the building’s diagram.
Her hands ran up her arms, shifting the position of the shawl and tripping another spell which caused her skin tone to lighten and her clothing’s hue turn gray. As she melted into the shadows, Taitha spun on her heels and started walking through the arch leading into the primary section of the museum. She twisted her way through various hallways as she sought her prize.
When she entered ‘The Library’, she paused and studied the mystical tomes. While Taitha walked around the railing, she traced the spine of each volume, and her eyes sparkled. She stopped when she came to the staircase and allowed her fingers to linger on a book’s cover. She took a deep inhalation, letting the scent of the parchment fill her nose. Reluctantly, Taitha tore her fingertips away from the tome and marched down the elegant marble stairs, heading straight for the pedestal in the middle of the room.
Taitha placed her palms on opposite sides of the glass box and closed her eyes. As the words spilled from her lips, purple energy rose from her extremities and spiraled around her arms. As her chanting increased, her eyelids started glowing a pale gold, and the violet lightning shot through the case, wrapping around the jewel sitting on an ornate pillow. Taitha pulled her hands closer to her chest, and a ghostly version of the gem emerged. The copy soared towards her along flickering tendrils attached to her extended fingers. The energy connecting the two stones glared brightly, and the translucent duplicate under the glass faded until it disappeared while the stone hanging in the air solidified.
“You truly are remarkable,” a voice declared, destroying the silence in the museum.
Taitha gripped the crystal in her left hand while her other traced a pattern on its largest face. The instant it vanished, she spun towards the source, raising her fingers to her neck. She licked her lips and rolled her eyes. “Why did the council send a Hunter after me?”
“You compelled me here. We have to handle rogue practitioners.”
“When the council forced me out, they declared I’d never receive that label, Hunter.”
The tall man descended the stairs, pointing at the empty case. “True, and the council desired to keep the arrangement, but you broke the mandate.”
“Obey those fools?” Taitha asked as she snickered. “The council is incapable of determining the best way to handle the rabble. And unfortunately, they sent you after me.”
“Hunters are powerful mages,” he said as he lifted a glowing finger. “As the individual that help craft our training, I’m surprised that you acted so foolishly.”
Taitha pressed the stone at the nape of her neck. “I am well aware of your capabilities, but you’re ignorant about mine.” Twirling her fingers, she shifted her body weight to her toes. “None of those pompous fools appreciate the depth of my skill.”
The Hunter swallowed a retort as his glowing finger brightened, turning an ominous shade of blue.
“You don’t want this scuffle.”
“I’m well aware of the strength that gem grants,” the Hunter commented. “But it takes a while for the wielder to access that potential.”
Taitha’s smile widened as her teeth elongated. “Hunter, while you’ve focused on the propaganda the council spouts about this stone, I am familiar with its genuine power.”
The Hunter shook his head and pointed his finger at the former councilwoman. “I’m sorry that it’s come to this.”
The crackling blue bolt lashed from his fingertip and raced through the room, slamming into Taitha. When the spell died, she brushed her chest and lifted an eyebrow. “Was that the best you could do?”
“How?” The Hunter asked as his legs wobbled.
“I am the owner of the stone.” Taitha straightened her shawl and strode toward the collapsing Hunter. “My ancestor crafted this stone, and it will always obey my whims.” She reached out and ran her finger down his cheek. Taitha lifted the man’s chin, forcing him to his feet, and positioned her mouth next to his ear, whispering. “I tried being nice, but you forced this response.”
“Please, let’s not do anything rash.”
Taitha placed her hand against his chest, and it glowed a bright red as if it were blazing embers.
The man quivered and strained, trying to retreat.
“Hunter, you can’t escape,” Taitha whispered as she pushed her glowing palm into his abdomen. “You were mine from the moment you approached me.”
“I’ll be your eyes and ears,” the Hunter squealed.
As her hand brightened, smoke began wafting up from it. “What compelling reason can you give me to trust someone so willing to betray his beliefs?”
“Taitha, please don’t do this.”
“Goodbye,” Taitha announced as she shoved her arm through his torso. When her fingers broke through, the glow transferred into the Hunter. With a grin, she moved her finger from under his chin to his lips, silencing his last scream. As the light spread, his body turned to ash, and she pulled her hand out of the hole. She grabbed her shawl and lifted it over her head and dropped it. As the cloth touched her skin, the spell embedded into the garment flared to life. The fabric wrapped around her, and with a bright flash, Taitha vanished, leaving an empty case and ashes.
]]>With the central theme selected, I went to NYC Midnight and randomly selected a Political Satire prompt that placed my tale in a Ski Resort and would feature some sushi. It took me a little while, but I was able to shape the reaction I wanted around the location and object. So sit down and dive into Lockdown.
A virus is discovered at a ski resort, while a couple are there on vacation. Will their isolation help them escape the bug’s rampage…
Wanda snagged a California roll with her chopsticks and dipped it into her shallow bowl filled with a mixture of soy sauce and wasabi. She raised the exquisitely formed roll of sushi and pointed it towards her husband. “Do you think this lockdown will end soon?”
Jacob lifted a piece of his own and dunked it into his concoction and took a bite. “I’m uncertain how long the government intends to impose this quarantine.” He dipped the rest into his straight soy sauce and popped it into his mouth. “While the resort is picking up the tab, I’m willing to deal with this lockdown, for as long as it’s required. I haven’t eaten food this delicious for quite a while.”
“But we can’t even go skiing,” Wanda retorted, waving her sushi overhead. “And in case you forgot that was the entire purpose behind this trip.”
Jacob laid his chopsticks down and took a sip of his drink as he flourished his free hand about the room. “They upgraded us to a nicer suite, not to mention they’re providing us with their best food.”
“But how long can they continue feeding us, under this lockdown?”
Jacob rose and walked between the pair of beds, claiming the letter resting upon the shared nightstand.
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]]>Rylan lounged in the pilot seat and stared out the windshield. As he waited for select members of the crew to arrive, his fingers tapped the console. After a moment’s reflection, he withdrew the small data crystal from his pocket and placed it in front of the light source. The illumination penetrated the tiny and translucent stone rod, letting its blue tint shine.
The door opened, and Darvan knocked on the wall. “Boss everyone’s on board.”
With a nod, Rylan clenched his fingers around the gem and spun to face the gigantic man. “Excellent, I’ll come down shortly. But I need you to finish the emergency protocols.”
“You don’t want me there for the meeting?” Darvan asked as he leaned against the doorframe.
“No,” Rylan answered as he stashed the crystal in his pocket. “You know the plan well enough, and besides, I’m doing everything I can to keep you off the Captain’s radar.”
With a chuckle, Darvan muttered, “You appear competent in that regard.”
“Has anyone bothered you while you’ve been working?”
The sizeable man shook his head.
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With the beginnings of the story in place, I focused on everything else. With each passing moment, the story started to come into focus, until it clicked, and the bare bones of the tale crystalized. After the events of Act of Heroism, another Patreon story featuring this mage, Darren wanders into his barber’s shop, and the two discuss the circulating new when their day gets turned upside down. Come delve into the second tale of Darren Gilbert and enjoy the story.
When Darren is getting a haircut, his barber asks what Darren thinks about the new crackdown on rogue wizards…
The bell attached to the door chimed as Darren entered the shop. He stopped in the middle of the entrance and glared at the man at the far end of the barbershop. “Neil, why do you let Geoffrey bang away on those bongos?”
“I enjoy it,” Neil replied, climbing out of a chair. “Geoffrey, stop serenading us and take a break.”
“Fine,” Geoffrey grumbled as he collected the money from his hat and shoved the wad into his pocket. He placed his small drum set on a table, saying, “Lunch sounds good.”
Darren stepped out of the doorway and allowed Geoffrey to leave.
“You could learn to live with his drumming,” Neil said, waiving Darren into an open chair.
“I’m not a fan of the noise pounding inside my skull,” Darren replied, plopping down into the proffered seat. “I prefer soothing music, not a wild percussion going off at random intervals.”
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]]>When I focused my attention on the constraints, I allowed my mind the freedom it required to craft a story. While there are aspects of action/adventure to the tale my mind developed, I think there are plenty of twists and turns that ramp up the drama. Come join me as I let Patrick’s story unfold in this chase into a parking garage.
Patrick dashes into a parking garage, trying to evade a local gang. Will he be able to avoid their wrath, or will he suffer their vengeance…
Patrick glanced over his shoulder and stumbled into the parking garage, tripping over the threshold. He caught himself on the trunk of the closest vehicle and bounded off it, rushing toward the ramp. As his legs propelled him up the slope, he heard a commotion, and risked another glance behind him and witnessed a pair of leather-clad bikers rush into the structure. Patrick reached the next level and turned right, putting a car between him and the dangerous men. With a shallow breath, he peered at them and waited.
The larger of the two grabbed his partner and roared, “Do you think you can outrun us?”
“Of course he does,” the smaller one said, shaking the hand off him. “That little peon scampered after he disrespected me.”
“We’ll get him, Gerry,” The first man replied as he pointed towards the car Patrick peered over.
Gerry’s smile flashed his teeth as he inched toward the ramp. His tongue ran along his lips as his scrutiny intensified.
Patrick ducked down and swallowed an enormous lump in his throat.
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]]>Imryll sat down and reached for the pile of papers. She claimed the first sheet and scanned the document. With a sigh, she dropped the paper and stared at her students. “Well, I think that’s enough for today, go enjoy yourselves before your next class.”
While the pupils began packing up, the teacher yanked the initial page from the stack and a red pen and started marking it.
After Darren slipped his papers into the folder, he itched at his splinted arm. He shut his eyes, biting his lower lip and took a few deep breaths. Darren twisted and tapped Maxwell’s shoulder. “Max, you and the rest of the guys should head out without me.”
Maxwell stared at their instructor and leaned over. “This was our last class of the day, we’re hitting the town tonight.”
“Sorry, but I have to bail on you,” Darren replied as he closed his bag and shoved it under his desk. Darren lifted his uninjured hand and jerked his thumb towards their teacher. Lifting his injured arm, Darren continued, “I think some extra one-on-one training with Imryll, might prove beneficial for me.”
The Dwarf’s face scrunched as he slung his pack onto his back. “You want additional work for biology?”
With a grin, Darren patted Maxwell. “You got to do everything in your ability to excel at the subjects you’re weak on.”
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Reaching out, Caleb brushed the damaged branch with his fingers. He dropped to a knee and scrutinized the ground, finding more disturbed undergrowth. He pulled his radio out and switched channels. “Engrim, what’s your team’s position?”
“We’re probably a click or two to the east,” Engrim answered. “Did you find something?”
Caleb moved a brush out of the way and studied the markings. “I may have, and I’d like a second opinion.”
“Isn’t Keldon leading a unit out here?” Engrim asked.
Caleb clicked his tongue rising to examine the damaged branch. “He headed south the moment we departed the settlement.” He turned towards his squad and lifted a finger to his lips. “If we wait to get his thoughts, whatever left these marks will be long since gone.”
“Fine,” Engrim grunted. “We’re on our way.”
Caleb stowed his radio and waved his team closer. “Something passed by recently, but it’s difficult to determine if the damage was deliberate or not.” He tugged on his rifle’s sling, pulling it off his back and twirled his finger over his head. “Everyone stay sharp and keep your heads on a swivel. I don’t want whatever’s out there to surprise us.”
“Are we spreading out?” Mika asked as she examined their surroundings.
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“What’s going on?” Marcus asked as his fingers traced the door.
Nathaniel lowered his book into his lap and sighed. “Talia is with the doctors, she’ll be fine.”
“She’s been back there longer than the last time,” Marcus countered, wiping his face as he resumed pacing the waiting room. As he walked past Nathaniel, Marcus plucked the book from Nathaniel’s grip and flipped through the pages. “Don’t you have any pressing concerns?”
“Not really,” Nathaniel answered as he rushed to his friend and reclaimed his book. “Thankfully, I have a bustling team of assistants whom I trust.”
Marcus grimaced, taking several deep breaths. “Fine, when’s the estimated completion date for the line to the Western Region?”
“I didn’t think you desired to jump into politics.”
“I don’t,” Marcus grumbled as he dropped into a chair. He rubbed his thighs with shaky fingers. “But until those tracks finish, I can’t complete my work.”
Nathaniel eased across from his friend and wrung his hands. “We’ve already shaved time off your deliveries to Kethra.”
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As flames raced up the prow of the ship, Isaac sank into his chair and groaned.
“What’s wrong with you?” Jasmine asked.
Isaac shook his head and tightened his grip on the controls. His brow furrowed as he inched up in the seat. “Only someone who didn’t fly this tub in an atmosphere would ask that question.”
“This craft is a self-contained colonization ship.”
“Bah,” Isaac growled as he fought with the yoke. “I know what it is and why we created it. But it as an impossibility to construct a small city and expect it to be aerodynamic.” He bit his lower lip as the control pulled to the left.
With a grin, Jasmine crooked her finger. “Weren’t you the pilot who claimed you could fly anything?” She chuckled and added, “I’m fairly certain that was you, making the boast to Quinn.”
“Yeah,” Isaac groaned “I may have been boasting to shut Olyver up.”
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As I researched about tenement building, a picture unfolded in my mind, and I thought about what I could do in an Oliver Twist type of environment. And like that the story began spilling out of my fingers. The rough outline was far from complete and happened in one building, but the heart of my story was in place. As I revised it, the story changed and I’m excited to present you with my new tale. Bonus points for those that can figure out the title without checking number two on this list.
John is alone and wandering a tenement building. He’s looking for a way to meet the quota that Helen decreed so he can return home…
John brushed passed throngs of people as he meandered down the halls. But whenever he approached a doorframe, a face from the crowd glared at him. With each admonition, John gripped his stomach and cursed as he went down the line and up the floors. When he reached the top floor, he peered down the hallway. He found a few more familiar faces, protecting certain entrances, except for a pair at the end of the hall.
He inched towards the first door and poked his head through it, only to yank it out after a brief glance. While his fingers clawed at the wall, he searched for another room. But his competitors smirked at his discomfort as they raided their targets. John cringed and held his breath as he gazed into the doorway. He looked from the resting figure on the bed and dashed behind a large chair.
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]]>“I’m doing what you instructed me to do,” the young man replied, rushing into the library. He peered over an eclectic collection in his arms. “Or do you want me to throw these ingredients away?”
The elderly man thumped the book down and pulled his robes tightly against his chest. He waved his hand across his throat, screaming, “Silence!”
Semil frowned and tried to reply, but nothing escaped his lips. With his eyes narrowing to slits, he dropped his load. He tapped his neck and shoved his fingers towards the old man.
Posted by WYKD WundrLnd on Saturday, December 28, 2019
With a sigh, the older man opened his tome and began flipping through sheets until his mouth curled into a smile. He jabbed his finger down and dragged it across the lines. When he finished absorbing the information, he pulled the ribbon out and laid it between the pages. The gnarled man circled the table and rummaged through the components scattered about the floor.
The silenced Semil stepped on a groping finger and tapped his throat.
With a wave of his free hand, the wizard brushed the boy off and rose, rubbing his extremities. “That was unwise, Semil.”
The boy’s finger dug into his neck as his eyes bulged and his lips curled into a scowl.
“Fine,” the mage said with another complex motion of his fingers. “But remember your place.”
Semil rubbed his jaw as he pulled the open book towards him. “I am sorry for my tone, Milos.”
The wizard continued examining the trinkets and declared, “I need you to fetch me the dragon’s tooth and the diamond dust.”
“Why are we summoning a dragon?” Semil backed up as his eyes widened. “Calling upon dragons is never wise. You told me that!”
“I’m well aware of your lessons. And for you attempting such a thing is beyond foolish.” Milos thumped his chest and continued. “While there is a slight risk for me, the potential gains outweigh it.”
“The initial page of this book is a warning not to summon them!”
The wizard rose and pulled the tome out of his apprentice’s hands. “Events that don’t concern you are coming to a bursting point. Suffice to say defending my lands will require a dragon’s unrelenting strength.”
“Do you believe the diamond dust will be enough to placate something as proud and as temperamental as a dragon?”
Milos slammed an iron bar down. “Do as you’ve been instructed! I need those ingredients sooner rather than later.”
“As you wish,” Semil said, offering a stilted bow before hustling into the depths of the fortress.
Milos confirmed the list in the book and gathered the components strewn across the floor. He returned to the table and arranged each around his tome. He retrieved a mortar and pestle from a small cabinet and began chanting as he crushed the ingredients into a paste.
“Your claw and diamond dust,” Semil declared, dropping them onto the opened pages.
The wizard scooped the tacky mass out and smeared it across the talon. Milos wiped the excess off on the table, and cleared his throat, resuming his chant. When Milos’s words repeated, the book’s text swirled forming a vortex.
The funnel spun faster as it receded into the pages, and Semil mumbled, “This is a mistake.”
As if on cue, a white dragon launched out of the maelstrom and grew. Smoke billowed from the flying creature as it swelled, while the wizard continued to chant. By the time it finished growing, Milos backed into the far wall. Its wings brushed the ceiling as the clawed feet made furrows in the stone floor. Its head reared up and unleashed a roar, silencing Milos. “Why did you summon me?”
Milos bowed his head and proffered the bag of diamond dust. “I have need of your strength.”
The dragon gently lifted the pouch with the tip of a talon and judged the weight of the offering. “What do you want from me?”
Milos’s hand pointed to the west. “There is an army marching towards my home.”
“And that means what to me?”
“I desire that you destroy it,” Milos declared pointing at the bag hanging on the claw.
“And this is all you offer?”
Milos stood straighter and asked, “What else would you require to honor this request?”
The dragon’s neck swiveled about the room studying its contents. Eventually, the white dragon closed its eyes and took several deep breaths. The thin lips curled up revealing its wickedly sharp teeth. The serpentine neck dropped placing an opening eye next to Milos’s. “You’ve embedded great power into this place.”
“It’s not enough to deflect the approaching menace.”
“But it would make a wonderful home,” the dragon replied.
“You want my land?”
“I’d be willing to share it,” The dragon answered.
Semil edged around the dragon clutching Milos’s arm. “You shouldn’t agree to this.”
“How would that arrangement work?” Milos asked backing away from the dragon.
“You will create a place for me under your keep, and we’ll ignore each other. And when invaders come for you, I’ll defend my home.”
“Done,” Milos declared.
“Excellent,” the dragon cried out as it shrunk. The diminutive form flew out a window and once freed from the confines it grew to its full size and raced off towards the approaching army.
“Deals with dragons, are never simple,” Semil muttered.
“True,” Milos agreed. “But without its help, I would lose my home.”
“I fear while you’ve defended your fortress, you have traded one danger for something worse.”
“You worry too much, Semil. Now leave me, I must hold up my end of the bargain.”
]]>While Rylan’s fingers flew across the shuttle’s console, a loud clang rang out from behind him. He jumped up and whipped his head around, catching sight of Darvan. With a sigh, the technician wiped his brow. “Did you have to drop that?”
“Sorry, boss,” Darvan answered. He leaned over to recover it, asking, “Did you want me to pick it up?”
Rylan waved his hands. “No, you’re fine. Locate Annabelle and escort her here.”
“Is she still in her quarters?”
“While the captain eased that restriction, she tends to stay there most of the time.” Rylan grabbed a tool and hunched back over the console. “Once you two return, resume working on the emergency protocols.”
“Sure thing,” the large man answered.
When the door slid shut, Rylan rose, and headed over to the equipment Darvan deposited. He kneeled at the data storage system and opened the control panel. Rylan pulled a diagnostic tool from his sling and connected it to the assembly. He flicked the power switch and waited for the assembly to activate. Once it booted up, he activated the diagnostic tool and drummed his finger on the assembly while he waited for it to connect. But his tool stubbornly refused to establish a connection, and without thinking, he whacked it.
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With a full prompt, I started trying to put pieces together. Over the weekend, I wove the first pass together and found the base of a fun Fairy Tale. Come join a little girl and her mother as they discover their family. But the little girl will find things that she never wanted to discover. Click the link below to delve into the story.
A little girl clutches her mother’s hand, frightened by the familial strangers. Will all these mysterious individuals be friendly…
Once upon a time, a little girl clutched her mother’s hand as they headed for a campsite. With a sniffle, the little girl pointed at the nearby throng and whined, “I don’t want to go.”
Her mother turned and kneeled in front of her and brushed some locks of hair away from her eyes. She offered the child a wan smile and pulled her into a hug, whispering, “What’s wrong, darling?”
The dutiful daughter buried her face into her mom’s shoulder. “I’m scared something bad will happen if I talk with strangers, and I don’t know anyone.”
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]]>Roland glanced at the bottom of his glass and groaned. “Is anyone else running on empty?”
Maxwell drained his mug and grinned. Twirling it in his hands, he replied, “Well, it would seem that you’ve broken the rule about asking about dry cups. It looks like you’re buying us some food.”
“Ugh…” Roland grunted as he emptied the remnants of his drink. He slammed the glass down and waved down their waitress.
With a smile, Darren finished his and placed the cup next to the other two. “Perfect timing for an appetizer.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Rolland muttered as the waitress approached the table.
With a wink at Roland, Rianna leaned against the booth. “What can I do for three of my favorite customers?”
Roland rolled his eyes and waved at the empty glasses. “Rianna, we need some refills, as quickly as possible.”
“Certainly,” Rianna replied. “I’ll be right back.”
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Tarian threw the doors open and marched into the makeshift lab. He marched towards the cracked table that bore the milky corpse. “What can you tell me about the mystery monster lying on the slab?”
Francis stepped away from his work and glanced around the room at his colleagues. When he saw everyone else glance elsewhere, he cleared his throat. “We’ve found nothing concrete.”
Tarian’s fist clenched as he looked at each of the scientists. When his gaze fell back to Francis, he licked his lips. “You’ve been studying the body for more than a week, and I know Keldon told you I needed answers immediately.”
“He did,” Francis hedged.
“Then why have you been dragging your heels?” Tarian inquired as he took a step towards Francis. While Tarian loomed over the scientist, he prodded the corpse’s abdomen and his finger slid into the creature. With a shudder he pulled it out, stating, “There’s no reason for you all to still be toiling away at this analysis. I should have gotten the results after a day.”
Francis wrung his hands as he tried to look away from Tarian’s glare. “That estimate would have held true if our equipment functioned.” He backed up and licked his lips. “Unfortunately, none of it has worked since we crash-landed.”
Tarian wiped the frustration off his face. “Please tell me there’s an update coming.”
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Then my mind flashed to Law & Order and Perry Mason. Courtrooms have the potential for loads of Drama and my mind began racing. But I needed to work the prompt into the story. And it clicked, have a guy facing a preponderance amount of evidence and a claim as to the words of a text message. From there I let the story unfurl in my mind. Sit down and follow the link to see how this tale unfolds.
A defendant caught with blood on his hands claims someone set him up. Will his attorney be able to shine the light of truth on the crime…
“The text message said, very clever,” the defendant insisted.
Gregory rubbed his eyes as he fanned out his files. “Neither your cell nor the phone company’s logs agree with you.”
The judge slammed his gavel and peered at the pair. He wrapped his fingers around the small hammer asking, “Are you going to cross-examine the witness?”
“One moment,” Gregory replied, lifting a finger.
“Sooner rather than later, if you please,” the judge demanded resting on his elbows.
“Yes,” Gregory answered. He pulled his client towards him, whispering, “This line of questioning won’t help the case.”
The defendant’s fists started turning white as a scowl emerged. “I didn’t murder my wife.” His eyes drifted to the witness as he continued, “Henry lured me there with a text saying Jasmine was in danger.”
“Everything that we’ve collected from multiple sources says that he told you they were going to the Bahamas.”
“They weren’t,” the defendant objected. “Jasmine surprised me with a trip to Ireland.”
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In Tombyards & Butterflies, Orlando Sanchez paints a typical word picture of these creatures only to upend that image in the initial chapter of the book. In this scene, a werewolf is seeking help from the detectives. During that meeting, he informs the duo he’s sick, and before much else can happen something forces him to transform, without the full moon. Oh, and as a bonus, the creature is immune to all of its weaknesses. The result is a rampaging monster that the detectives kill in self-defense.
After the attack, The Dark Council blames Tristan for creating the disease that is spreading throughout the werewolf community and sends him an ultimatum. He can either surrender or be declared a dark mage and suffer the consequences. As with the previous installment, since Simon is immortal, this implication serves to keep the detective on his toes with death lurking around the corner.
Taking a step back and looking at the book, the plot moves along at a good pace and is punctuated with enough action to capture my attention. But that doesn’t mean that Orlando Sanchez ignores his characters. Each continues to develop and grow from the initial page to the story’s conclusion. And the humor laced throughout Full Moon Howl is as sharp and well placed as the first entry.
The only drawback to the second installment is personal. The rest of the series is currently not available on Audible. However, the entire series is available on Kindle. Unfortunately, there are too many books I want to read and not enough time for me to get to them. With that said, I’m excited about these characters, so I’ll monitor the series page, hoping to find the next one ready for purchase.
But the series is too good to avoid while I wait for the Audible version of the book. I may end up adding the Kindle copy of Blood is Thicker to my collection to get my fix.
]]>“What happened to finishing the train tracks later today?” Marcus demanded as he slammed Nathaniel’s door.
As Nathaniel slummed into his chair, he yanked on his hair. “That was the original timeline.”
“That was three months ago,” Marcus grumbled, plopping down across from Nathaniel. He reached out and grabbed the uneaten part of the sandwich. He tore a chunk off and munched on it while asking, “What shattered that lofty goal of yours?”
Nathaniel rose his head and gripped his chin. His eyes narrowed as the meal diminished. Nathaniel took a shallow breath and started rubbing his face. “We’ve had some complications along the length of the track.”
“Oh,” Marcus mocked around a mouthful. “You don’t say.”
“That’s enough,” Nathaniel cried out as his hand slammed down on his desk.
The sandwich froze halfway to Marcus’s lips, and he swallowed the remnants in his mouth before taking another bite.
Nathaniel worked his jaw loose and refolded his hands on the desk. “Are you planning to do anything other than mock me?”
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Tarian sat in solitary silence, taking in the empty meeting hall and studying the cracked table. The crack ran across its entire length, and the sneering crevasse mocked him. He gripped the hilt of his dagger with white knuckles and lifted the tip of the blade. Tarian let it hover before ramming it into the slab. While he took a deep breath, Tarian twisted the knife into the growing hole. As the seconds ticked away, he stabbed the weapon into the surface repeatedly.
Between strikes, the door swung inward, and Keldon eased into the room. He stared at his friend, assaulting the broken furniture, and sighed. After Tarian drove the blade into the wood another dozen times, Keldon claimed an empty seat and waited for Tarian to stop gouging a hole. But the knife didn’t cease. He cleared his throat and said, “Normally, I wouldn’t butt into your affairs.”
“Then, why start?” Tarian asked as he slammed the dagger into the table.
“Two reasons,” Keldon answered. He lifted a pair of fingers and explained, “The first is, it isn’t good for you to sit here, sulking for weeks on end.”
“And the second reason?” Tarian inquired, plunging the blade through the wood.
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I dug into the recent headlines and came across a headline that honestly terrifies me, Smartphone Voting. Granted it’s for the upcoming caucus in Iowa, but going this route is very dangerous. I know how that particular sausage is made, and it terrifies me. With the political angle buttoned down, I turned to NYC Midnight’s catalog to pluck a Political Satire prompt. Follow me as I spin a Political Satire in an all you can eat buffet and featuring a fire hose.
A pair of friends are eating at a Brazilian Steakhouse, and the emerging voting system comes up…
With a plate laden with food, Jacob plopped down across from Gabriel, lifting a shrimp from the pile.
Gabriel gawked at the overflowing dish and reached for his drink. After taking a sip, the man wiped the clinging water from his lips. “You know, the city isn’t going through a food shortage. There’s no need to attempt closing the restaurant single-handedly.”
“Ha, ha ha,” Jacob complained as he placed a set of stacked bowls next to him. He jerked his thumb over his shoulder and replied, “I’m hungry, and it’s an all you can eat buffet.” When the lean man lifted one dish from the stack, he added, “I want to get my money’s worth.”
With a groan, Gabriel pulled his phone from his coat pocket and checked the time while he speared a tiny portion of his filet. When he popped the morsel into his mouth, Gabriel shut his eyes and laid the cell down. “Mmm…,” he replied as he wiped his lips. “Look, I am not arguing that point, but wouldn’t you rather fill up on the delicious meats?”
“The steaks are amazing,” Jacob answered. But he lifted the liberated shrimp from the plate and dragged it through the cocktail sauce. With a flourish, he winked at Gabriel. “But I don’t eat seafood this good nearly as often enough.”
Gabriel tapped his phone’s screen and grumbled. “Fill up on sides or exquisite steaks? It’s not a hard question.”
“True, shrimp and mussels are the unquestioned winners.” Jacob quipped before popping the morsel into his mouth.
Gregory’s head fell into a waiting palm as his phone dinged.
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“What’s gotten into Cederic?” Annabelle asked.
Rylan glanced at the other team leader and shuddered under the man’s intense scrutiny. “I’m not sure, but it’s starting to bother me.”
“It is only starting to bother you?” Annabelle queried as she drew a card. “I would have adjusted that attitude of his by now if he’d turned it on me.”
The technician tapped the deck of cards. “Don’t you mean you would have gotten Darvan to adjust it?”
“Same thing,” Annabelle replied as she discarded. “Though Cederic isn’t the only one acting weird.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Have you seriously not noticed?”
Rylan ran his fingers through his hair and sighed, “I guess not.”
“The rest of Cederic’s team?”
“What about them?”
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I reached back into NYC Midnight’s catalog and plucked a Historical Fiction prompt. With the setting, a fire station, and an object, a mosquito net, to work into the tale, I started working on the bones of the story. After some thought, an idea took root. As the yarn unfolded in my mind, I pictured two firemen huddling around a particular locker. As I pushed down this path, the concept became fully entrenched until I had the initial draft. Head over to my Patreon page to read this narrative between the station’s chief and one of his men.
After extinguishing a fire, the Chief returns to his station and insists on handling a grim duty alone…
The Chief stood in front of Ralph’s locker and stared at the belongings. After a moment, he reached inside and withdrew a black leather jacket. He held it by the shoulders and studied the unadorned material. Donald closed his eyes while his hands folded the coat. When he finished, he dropped it into the box next to the bench and pulled out the extra shirts.
“Hey Chief, do you need a hand?”
Donald’s head turned and found Frank ambling towards him. “Shouldn’t you be busy doing something else?”
“No,” the firefighter replied as he removed a record. “Ralph and I were friends before becoming firefighters.” He glanced up from the album, adding, “I don’t want to be anywhere but here.”
The Chief pulled the vinyl out of Frank’s hands and turned it over. “I didn’t know Ralph liked Johnny Cash.”
With a shrug, Frank pulled more albums from the locker. “Ralph listened to everything.”
Donald plucked another handful of records, asking, “Any genre in particular?”
Frank flipped through them, and wry laughter escaped his lips. “He loved music. Though you wouldn’t be able to figure out what genres based on his collection.”
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The pilot’s fingers tightened around the steering yoke as he inquired, “Aside from us being at war?”
“Their aircraft aren’t as advanced as ours, Erik,” she said, leaning into her seat. The young woman pulled her legs onto the edge of the chair, wrapping them up with her arms.
“True,” Erik hedged. “Unfortunately, that’s not the only aspect of warfare. But their sorcery far outstrips ours.”
“What can five witches do for us?”
Erik covered his mouth, stifling a yawn, then snatched the microphone from the console and switched channels. “All of them are masters, which means they’re capable of a lot.”
Posted by Gary Clark on Tuesday, January 7, 2020
The navigator pressed her face against the glass and stared into the moonlight sky. She quickly found a witch flying alongside the bomber. The woman straddled her broom, gripping its neck with her hands while the black robes and dark hair fluttered behind her. Without warning, the witch rolled from Ramona’s view. “All five are masters?”
“Yes,” the pilot answered as he activated the microphone. “Quinn, have the witches reported any problems?”
“Why did we receive that many masters for this run?” Ramona asked.
“Despite violating Estrian territory, all’s silent on this end,” Quinn responded.
Erik lowered the handset and stared at the horizon scratching his chin. After some contemplation, he squeezed the mic and ordered, “Quinn, signal them and ask for an update.”
“Sure thing,” Quinn replied.
“What possessed command to assign us, five masters?” Ramona pressed.
After several tense seconds, the pilot dropped the microphone and answered, “We’re ending the war.”
“With one run?”
A wry chuckle escaped Erik’s lips while he grabbed the yoke. But before he could elaborate, the signal operator’s voice filled the chamber. “Sybell signaled that everything looks clear.”
Erik lifted the handset and stroked his chin. “Roger that, Quinn.”
“Keep checking in with her and alert me the moment the situation changes.”
“Sure thing, boss.”
“Ramona, what’s the time to target?”
With a scowl, the navigator studied her maps and instruments and answered, “Five minutes out.”
Erik adjusted the channel of the radio and opened a line to the bomber. “Dorian, are you ready to go?”
“I will be,” he replied. “Chief, can you explain what we’ll accomplish with a single bomb?”
The pilot closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “The brain trust discovered a weapon that should devastate the Estrians’ military command on its own. And they amplified it with some runes.”
“How precise do I need to aim this?” Dorian asked.
The pilot’s fingers raked at his collar, answering, “The bomb just needs to get close.”
Ramona’s eyes darted to the pilot while she wrapped her hand around her pencil. She forced the sudden lump down her throat, asking, “How big is this explosion going to be?”
Erik glanced at his navigator and bit his lower lip. He lifted the microphone to his mouth and commanded, “Dorian, you just have to get close to the target.” Before the bomber could answer, the pilot switched back to Quinn’s channel and stowed the handset. His fingers resumed their effort to loosen his collar as he answered Ramona’s question. “That’s the second reason we have five masters. After we deploy the bomb, our escort will open a way.”
The pencil fell from the navigator’s grasp. When the clattering died off, she steadied herself in the chair and cleared her throat. “We have to travel a way to escape the blast?”
“The brain trust isn’t sure,” Erik admitted while he rubbed his eyes.
“How experimental is this bomb?”
He shifted his hand to his shoulder and bemoaned, “The conventional portion has been thoroughly vetted.”
“What about the runes?”
“The mages used the standard ones to increase a bomb’s devastation.”
“Why wasn’t that scrutinized?”
“Sybell says we’ve entered the minefield of defensive wards for the Estrian command,” Quinn interrupted.
Erik pulled the microphone from the controls and asked, “Do we need to climb to avoid the spells?”
“No,” the signal operator answered. “Sybell is insisting that the stealth enchantments are doing what they have to do.”
The pilot lowered the handset and peered at Ramona. “How far out are we?”
She shoved a finger against the map while she pulled out another pencil and referenced her instruments. “Dorian needs to get ready to release the experiment.”
“Quinn, inform Sybell to prepare a way once we deploy the package,” Erik commanded. Immediately he adjusted his radio to Dorian’s channel. Looking over his shoulder, he asked, “Ramona are we in position?”
“Now,” she replied.
“Drop the bomb!”
After a moment’s silence, the bomber’s voice responded, “The bomb’s away.”
Before Dorian finished, spells erupted from the defenses. Cursing Eric turned the plane around and pushed the lever that controlled the craft’s velocity. And switched the radio to Quinn’s channel.
“That volley took out two of our escort,” Quinn’s voice declared. “Can they still open a way?”
“No,” Erick spat as he forced more speed.
“Are we going to escape the blast?” Ramona asked.
Eric ignored the question. His attention flitted among the altimeter, the speed gauge, and the receding horizon. As the ship raced for sanctuary, the incoming spells whipped past the hull. After one bolt of lightning missed the fuselage, another clipped a wing, pitching the plane that direction. With a curse, Erik fought the yoke and corrected their course while he teased even more speed from the bomber.
While Erik wrestled the struggling craft, Quinn’s voice erupted through the cockpit. “The bomb went off.”
Ramona grabbed the microphone and asked, “Are we going to make it?”
“Check back with me later,” Dorian answered. “But I’ve never seen an explosion like that.”
“What’s different about it?” Ramona inquired.
“I think we won the war,” Quinn mumbled.
Ramona glanced at the pilot, asking, “Why’d you say that, Quinn?”
“You wouldn’t ask if you saw it.”
“That was the idea,” Erik said, fighting the yoke. “Ramona, find us a place to land.”
]]>I went through a couple of ideas before I even settled on the actual crime. I needed to introduce another character into Jessica’s life. And I wanted someone from her past to show up. I first thought about having her team up with someone, but she quickly vetoed that opinion. Then I tinkered with the notion of having her compete with this new individual. But that idea didn’t go anywhere. But I stuck to my guns and eventually realized that the person shouldn’t be a friend. Instead, it had to be an enemy. And with that, the story fell into place. Please sit back and relax as I guide you through Jessica Mosley’s latest misdeed.
Jessica’s current job reunites her with someone from her past. Will she be able to complete the job, or will this man’s grudge prevail…
I finally gave her a last name!
Jessica lifted her phone, scrolling through the job’s details. After reminding herself about the owner, Jessica raised an eye over her phone’s screen to study Connor Reynolds. He seemed likable if she pushed past the fact that the stout owner orchestrated all the crime in this district.
After a brief exchange with an older customer, Connor plucked a package of bulbs from the shelf as he draped an arm around the gentleman’s shoulder, guiding him to the register. “These will infinitely improve driving at night. Let me ring you up, sir.”
When the pair vanished, a lean man walked up beside her and started looking through the windshield wipers.
Jessica eyed the stranger and tried to withdraw from the man’s watchful gaze.
“You’re truly a master of deception,” the customer said as he lifted a wiper blade. “Unfortunately, I recognize you.”
Jessica stopped in her tracks and cocked her head back at the shopper and studied the strange face. “Who do you think I am?”
The man returned the part and shuffled towards the woman. His fingers halted at another product. “You’re Jessica Mosley, a talented thief.”
“That’s quite an accusation,” Jessica replied as she slipped her phone into a pocket. She leaned against an end cap and muttered. “Whoever you are.”
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Nathaniel urged his horse forward, and while the beast sauntered through the gate, he gawked at Marcus’s ranch. He shook his head as he studied the pristine landscape. He ran his hand through his hair as he cursed his friend’s dedicated spirit. People like Kethra, who didn’t know Marcus grumbled that the farmer usurped resources, but Marcus did not need to. The man devoted himself to cultivate perfection out of every blade of grass.
As Marcus’s home came within view, Nathaniel caught sight of someone working near the house. He drove the horse to a gallop while muttering, “Kethra needs to get over her vendetta.” When he could identify the farmhand, Nathanial pulled on the horse’s reins. “How are you doing, Wayne? Have you seen Marcus?”
“He’s with Talia and Preston in the animal pen,” Wayne replied with a wave.
“Talia is with him?”
“As far as I know,” Wayne responded as he examined two bales of hay. “Did you want to wait in the house for them?”
“No, Kethra is stirring up trouble again.” The leader rubbed his horse’s neck while he stared out towards his friend’s pen. “Can I ride out there? Or do I have to walk?”
“She won’t get past the cattle guard,” Wayne replied without looking away from his work. “You better tie up your horse and hoof it.”
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“Aurora, are you there?”
Olyver’s head whipped towards the comms, “Didn’t Escort One land?”
“Yes,” Caitlin replied.
Olyver rose and crossed the room and flipped the comm system on. “This is Aurora.” The lanky triumvir plopped down in the chair next to the unit, barking, “Who is this?”
“This is Escort Two,” Beatrix answered.
“Is everything okay?” Quinn asked, propping himself up. “You all weren’t supposed to check in till you returned.”
“We’re fine,” Beatrix responded. “We just wanted to give you the information about the last planet in the system.”
Olyver grinned, cocking his head to glare at Quinn. “Thank you, Beatrix. It’s nice to know that some people will follow the proper procedures.”
Quinn rolled his eyes and collapsed into his chair. “Olyver, be quiet.” Quinn groaned and dropped his face into his hands. “Beatrix, why are you calling in with an update?”
“With what we found, we didn’t feel waiting until we returned would be all that beneficial,” Sara chimed in.
“Sara, you are not the comms officer for the Escort Two,” Olyver chided.
“Shut up, Olyver,” Quinn commanded.
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Imryll walked through the desks of her students, looking over their shoulders. When she came to Darren, she stopped and laid a hand on his back. “You have a great gift for magic, and Arlen has sung your praises with the healing arts.” She gripped his shoulder, adding, “But with a little more focus, you would be a better defensive spell caster.”
Darren sighed and turned to the correct page in the book.
She released her grip and resumed meandering through the classroom, addressing her pupils. “Despite requiring greater attention, it’s not impossible to excel in this field of magic. Remember, this specialty doesn’t require brute strength.”
“What’s more important than raw power? Maxwell asked.
“You should know that already,” the teacher said while walking to her desk. As she sat on the edge and looked over the class, she folded her arms across her chest. “Can anyone answer the question?”
“Subtlety,” Kira answered.
“That’s correct, Kira,” Imryll replied with a warm smile. “It’s like martial arts in that regard. Brute strength will always lose when it’s up against a mage that uses subtlety.”
“Then why can’t I ever defend myself against you and the other instructors?” Norry asked.
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]]>Tarian drew his finger along the table and tapped the document. “Fitik, you know, Caleb. Do you think he would forge this?”
The dwarf’s scowl deepened as he glared across the table into Variel’s eyes. His tongue ran across his lips before downing his mug of ale. As his knuckles whitened, he slammed the empty cup on the table. “No, Caleb is an honorable man. He wouldn’t fake this.”
“Then how do you explain your signature?” Variel asked, pointing at the incriminating scrawl.
Fitik leapt to his feet and slammed his fists upon the table.
While everyone sat in silence from the sudden reaction, armed men rushed into the hall, weapons bared.
With a raised hand from Tarian, the sentries halted. Keeping his attention on Fitik, Tarian addressed the guards. “We’re fine. Return to your posts.”
“Are you sure?” Keldon questioned sheathing his sword.
“Kel, leave us!”
When the door closed, Tarian rounded the cracked table and lifted the sheet of paper. “Fitik, can you agree that this raises questions?”
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As the plow approached the end of the field, Preston eased it to a stop. Turning it off, he wiped the sweat from his brow and dropped to the ground rubbing his shoulders.
“You’re always loafing,” Wayne decreed, entering the newest field.
Preston grabbed his canteen and swigged half the water. Screwing the bottle closed, Preston hung it on his shoulder. “I just finished plowing the entire field, and you have the temerity to call me lazy.”
“The smaller field,” Bret mocked, clapping Wayne’s back. “We plowed and planted the larger one, and we did it without the new steam plow.”
“You used a team of horses,” Preston countered as he rose. He opened the grate, smothering the flames. With the flick of his wrist, he opened the valve and let the pressure vanish. With a grunt, Preston lifted the blade out of the ground and locked it in place. Preston brushed the clinging dirt off and glared at the others. “They seemed to work fine.”
Bret slapped the top of the fence. “What did he say?”
“I think he volunteered to switch fields next planting season,” Wayne replied as he walked towards the plow.
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My location came up as a bridge, and I needed to weave a mask somewhere into the story. I thought about the requirements and let my mind wander. How would I tie both these together into a compelling narrative? A bridge seemed easy enough to weave into a thriller, but how would I bring the mask into the story? Looking back at the prompt, I realized that other options existed, but ultimately I’m happy with the crafted tale. Inevitably while flash fiction tells a complete story, there always are some dangling threads. While Racing Fire is not the exception to prove the rule, I think I have some central characters to revisit the next time a Thriller comes up.
A couple are crossing a bridge to get home when something collides with the structure. As the taillights flare, they flee to survive…
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Justin turned the car onto the bridge and shifted his position. “Babe, we’re crossing the bay.” Tightening his grip on the steering wheel, he added, “Should be about another thirty minutes.”
“Wake me once we arrive,” Sally moaned, lifting an eyelid. “I don’t want to think about anything till we get home, including your constant update of our arrival time.”
With a scoff, Justin ran his tongue over his teeth and shook his head. “As you command, you can go back to sleep until…” Justin trailed off as something streaked across the sky, tearing a red furrow through the air. After blinking, a flood of taillights encompassed Justin’s view. He slammed his foot on the brakes, and their seatbelts kept them in the car. As it groaned to a halt, they could hear squealing metal and screams cut through the music. Before either could react, the muffled commotion was capped by a tremendous boom.
“What happened?” Sally asked, gripping her seatbelt.
“Up there,” Justin said, pressing a trembling finger against the windshield. “Do you see the red scar running across the horizon?”
“Yes,” Sally murmured.
“Whatever caused it, created this new parking lot,” Justin replied, unbuckling his safety belt.
“What are you doing?”
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Ever since I discovered NYC Midnight, I’ve turned to their sites to pluck prompts for my flash fiction pieces. The somewhat random genres, locations, and objects help drive me with unique stories. And this time when I pulled a surveillance van and a helmet from the Mystery prompts, I didn’t know what I would do. But after some thought I came in at the tail end of the mystery and have Kyle and his assistant sitting in their van listening to a conversation between the police’s suspect and Kyle’s. Come and discover the results of Kyle’s investigation.
Kyle’s latest client maintains her innocence despite being the police’s most likely suspect. Will Kyle’s search for truth assist the client…
The investigator pulled a pair of bottles from the small ice chest and handed one to his assistant.
Opening it, the other man stared at the van’s walls and asked, “Do you believe this will work?”
Kyle twisted his open while listening to the conversation coming from Wendy’s concealed microphone.
“Wendy, it’s nice to see you.”
“Hey, Selina, can I come in?”
Gregory lowered his bottle, gripping it with both hands. “You shouldn’t have sent Wendy in there.”
“Why?” Kyle inquired, tapping the volume control.
“Are the police still hounding you?” Selina asked.
“They are, people love being lazy,” Wendy complained. “And I’m the easiest person to pin the murder on.”
“You’re convinced that Selina killed Jacob,” Gregory declared.
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Still working without a full name for my master thief, I went delving for this job’s prompt. After my search, I needed to work her latest heist into a vineyard and a laminator required to make an appearance. What valuables would a vineyard have? It took me a while, but I eventually leaned on an eccentric owner and his mythical buried treasure. With everything in place, I began crafting the outline of Jessica’s latest escapade. And before long, this heist took shape. With the tale finished come explore the mysteries of this crime.
Jessica’s current job drops her in a vineyard, searching for the owner’s treasure. With no concrete information, will she ever find it…
“What’s with all the security?” Jessica asked as she dropped a bunch of grapes into her basket.
The young woman beside her chuckled while her fingers inspected the grapes hanging before her. “The guards are here to protect the owner’s treasure.”
“His fortune?”
“Supposedly, the boss has a collection of rare gemstones hidden somewhere in the vineyard.” The worker plucked a cluster of grapes from the vine and eased them into her basket. The woman’s fingers resumed their search for ripened fruit. “Not entirely sure how much truth there is to that rumor.”
“Has a worker ever tried searching for the stones?” Jessica asked. “Or stumbled upon them?”
The woman gripped Jessica’s shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze. “Don’t go down this path.”
“Why?”
“Everyone tries searching for that treasure,” the worker cautioned as she resumed her search for ripe fruit. After dropping a few more bunches into the basket, she rubbed her eyes. “That said, no one has located the supposed wealth.”
Jessica dropped a handful of grapes into her pile while her free hand clutched her stomach. “I’ll be back.”
“Are you okay?”
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“Are we in range yet?” Beatrix asked.
With a sigh, Lora turned her chair away from her console and buried her face into her hands. “We’ll call you when we arrive at the gas giant.”
“We don’t have to be at the planet for me to scan its satellites,” Beatrix objected, kicking at the doorframe.
“You’ll be able to inspect all the moons soon,” Zander replied, resting his head on his hand. “Can’t you just wait till we get there?”
Beatrix walked into the cockpit and claimed the last station. “You’ve kept me out long enough, all the equipment is here.”
“Whatever, Beatrix,” Lora said, returning her attention to her console. She adjusted a few controls before flicking the display a few times. Leaning back, she dropped her head into her hands and asked, “Why are we scanning these moons?”
“The triumvirs are looking to make things different than under the previous administration,” Sarra answered.
“What’s that have to do with anything?” Lora inquired, while she twirled in her chair.
Zander grabbed his canteen and took a sip. “Previously, the Federation would only settle a single planet in a system.” The copilot swallowed another mouthful and continued, “It didn’t care if there were multiple planets that could support a colony.”
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“Remember to stay focused on the end goal,” Arlen said, wiping her dagger clean.
Norry turned his hand over and watched the blood pooling in his palm. “We’re required to heal the cut you just made.”
The elven instructor slipped the knife into her sheath as she returned to the chair and crossed her legs. She folded her hands together and laid them on her knees and answered, “Yes, Norry, you need to mend your injury. Keep the entire process in mind as you attempt the healing.”
Darren lifted his sliced palm and placed a finger on either side of the cut. With a deep breath, he reached into himself and found the source of his magic. The wild energy coursed through him as he focused on the laceration. While Darren forced more power to flow into the divided skin, he concentrated on the edges of the slice coming together. After several moments, the wound refused to mend.
Closing his eyes, Darren inhaled and repeated the exercise. With several deep breaths, he increased his focus, and after a few painful seconds, the coursing energy flowed through him and into the laceration. The exposed muscles began to tingle as they mended. He cracked an eye and tried to examine the injury, but the blood obscured his view. He pulled a small rag and wiped away the crimson liquid. He smiled, brandishing his healed hand. “I did it.”
“You possess a talent for healing,” Arlen said as she approached Darren. She grasped his hand and examined it. “There’s a slight scar where the cut was.” The teacher wrapped the scarred area and her hands emanated a faint glow. “With a little more practice, I think you’ll be able to achieve your desire without leaving that scarring.” When the radiance vanished, Arlen released Darren’s hand.
While the young half-elf gawked at his hand, Kira exclaimed, “Darren isn’t the only one with a knack for healing.”
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Having been exiled from her home in the Central Kingdom, Sylvia wakes to find herself in a new dungeon. She is isolated in a strange new world unable to communicate with her unknown captors. Over the course of a week, various strangers teach her how to speak their language. One of her guards is genuinely kind, while her lead interrogator offers a smile while keeping her imprisoned. Sylvia’s confidence and determination drive her to absorb the new language while searching for her best means of escape.
Will she be able to flee her prison? Will she be able to survive in this world? Or will the King and his court keep this woman in chains?
]]>The silence building around Rylan and Annabelle, shattered when a voice cut through the cockpit. “Rylan, how soon will your team return?”
Rylan’s fingers activated his headset. “Captain, we’re clearing the sun.” He swiveled to another display and studied it for a moment. “Has Cederic’s crew arrived back yet?”
“They docked a few minutes ago,” the captain said.
Annabelle spun around in her chair, activating her comm. “Did you tell them what we found on the surface?”
The captain choked off a curse. “Have I told you what they learned?”
“No, sir,” Rylan replied while he glared at his copilot. With another few adjustments, the shuttle’s engines hummed louder, and the ship lurched forward. “I assume they had no more trouble with the planet’s atmosphere.”
“No,” the captain stated. “Now hurry back.”
“Cheery,” Annabelle muttered after the captain closed the channel.
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Harrison and the king are in the middle of a conversation about the tinkerer’s current project. When they finish the conversation, the king brings Harrison back to the gala to join his party. While he enjoys his time with Kylee and Lucas, the fourth member of the table does not care for him. After a short conversation, Harrison leaves the table to figure out the problem with his current project. While he appreciates the beauty of the gardens, lightning erupts in the night sky.
What is the lightning bringing to the Isles? What dangers will befall Harrison and the king?
]]>With my character selected, I needed a few more pieces of information to write the story. The first and most straightforward to get was the prompt. A short hop skip and a jump later, I had the bare bones in place, and I focused on coming up with a crisis that my good inspector could overcome. While this is sometimes hard to drum up, this time, it jumped right to the forefront of my mind. With everything collected, I started writing Ryan Graves’s latest escapade. Come and delve into the tale that took place in a pottery studio and involved a shovel.
After one of Mayor Reese’s aides finds a threatening note on an online forum, the authorities task Inspector Graves to protect her…
“Thank you for coming with me,” Becky said to Ryan as she wrapped her fingers around the doorknob. “I know you all question the sincerity of the danger.”
“Unlike some of my colleagues, I don’t doubt the veracity of any threat.”
She tightened her grip on the handle, resting her head on the wooden panel leading to the private studio. “That’s why I’m glad you’re here.” With a quick jerk she opened the door and eased into the doorway, saying, “Hello, Gretchen.”
The woman inside the small room smiled and rose from her chair. “You’re a little late, Mayor Powers.”
“There’s no need to be that formal, call me Becky,” the politician replied as she placed a hand over her chest. “Out there, I’m the mayor.” She paused while she pointed at the potter’s wheel and concluded, “But in this studio, I am just your student.”
“Please come in, Becky,” Gretchen said, gesturing at the free chair.
Becky walked into the room and tried to close the door, but Ryan’s foot kept it open.
He leaned in and whispered, “With the threat, I need to stay with you, ma’am.”
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Wading through a past catalog of NYC Midnight’s Flash Fiction Challenges and selected a prompt. Once I picked the location and object, I let myself wander until a story took shape. With a rough draft in my mind, I started turning the concept into a complete tale. Late last night, or very early this morning, depending on your point of view, I put the finishing touches on my romance that took place in a conference room featuring a sea urchin.
Trevor watches Jasmine walk out of his life, leaving only a sea urchin key chain. After she leaves, Jessie comes to talk with his friend…
Trevor sat alone at the conference table, clutching something in his hand, while Jessie leaned against the open doorframe. The lean man folded his arms and cleared his throat. “Is everything okay?”
“Jasmine walked out,” Trevor replied.
“I’m sorry, man.” He studied the room, adding, “Do you need me to cover for you?”
“No, I’m done for the day,” Trevor said, opening his fist, and a key chain tumbled free from his fingers. The spines jutted out from a central sphere, which let the small piece of plastic roll around before the ring and chain helped drag it to a stop.
Jessie sat down and pointed at the star-shaped thing. “What’s that?”
“I got this for Jasmine on our last vacation.”
“That did not answer my question,” Jessie commented drumming his fingers on the table.
Trevor leaned back into his seat and started twirling the key chain around his finger. “Just because you didn’t hear what you wanted doesn’t mean you did not get what you needed.”
“Fine,” Jessie replied through his fingers. Slowly he pulled his hand away from his face. “If you got it for her, why did she give it back to you months after the vacation?”
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Sorry for the mini-rant and now back to NaNoWriMo. I entered the challenge with an outline and a very broad idea of how the story would unfold.
Prologue:
Detail an assault upon the generational ship and the ensuing cry from the citizens for more protection
Chapter 1:
Daniel Corry is wrapping up a story about the latest disturbance in the smallest city, the latest fighting almost spilled over to the central city hands it over to his editor
Chapter 2:
Daniel is heading into his paper’s office and when he gets in he finds a portfolio on his desk he opens it and the first page is a typed paper that talks about missing people (one dozen so far)
The above blurbs are examples of what I opened with. While some chapters, especially the later ones, had a little more information, none of the thoughts were more than a paragraph. As the days wore on, I built out the web of the investigation that Daniel Corry would explore. While I love writing, I have to admit that I have a bit of a one track mind. I poured all the time I could find into the exploration of the world.
After twenty-one days of work, I hit the fifty thousand word goal, giving me the win. It was an incredible feeling to make that mark, the downside to the story’s scope was that that word count didn’t finish the story. For a hot moment, I thought about pushing through to the end, but I skipped the last few chapters for now. With the decision made, I buckled down and churned out the first Patreon post for November, Waiting for Results.
With one down, I have two more stories to flesh out, thankfully I have the bare bones of the project in place. Unfortunately, with the focus on Survival and my Patreon account, my Wattpad storylines suffered. The only story that might still get published this month is Harrison & Sylvia Part 11. Next year, I must be a little more prepared when NaNoWriMo rolls around so I can complete the challenge while not losing track of my other projects.
]]>Two fathers take their daughters to the local pizzeria. While the little ones are playing, the adults discuss the upcoming vote…
Gregory pushed the door open and ushered his daughter into the pizzeria. He pointed at his friends and whispered, “Can you see them?”
After a brief search Lucy exclaimed, “They are sitting next to the game room!” The little girl gripped her father’s hand, dragging him towards their friends, squealing, “Hi Beth!”.
Beth pelted out of the booth and met Lucy halfway. The girls latched upon each other before facing their parents. And in perfect unison inquired, “Can we go play in the game room?”
Lucy’s dad rubbed his eyes and glanced at his friend. “Do you care?”
Henry’s fingers stroked his chin in contemplation for a moment. Then he snapped his fingers and asked, “Will you two like sausage and mushrooms on your pizza?”
“Or pepperoni and peppers,” Gregory suggested.
Lucy and Beth gazed at each other with grim faces. Beth recovered first, stating, “We want cheese pizza.”
Henry lifted his menu and waved at the waiter. “Go play for a little while.”
The children beamed at Henry before rushing into the pizzeria’s game room.
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With my curiosity peaked, I signed up for an account and discovered that the camp’s start date was fast approaching. So I looked through my projects and selected a draft to use. For the camp, I chose Hero Call, an Urban Fantasy, and spent the entire month of July working on it and somehow hit my rather lofty target of 85,000 words. I even squeezed in my Patreon and Wattpad flash fiction stories. The camp ran during the summer, which meant my daughter didn’t have school or other activities. That lack of scheduled activities gave me a little more time to get an extra bit of writing done. Unfortunately, NanoWriMo takes place in November. Couple school being in session and an uptick in her activities, I may have trouble hitting my goal and all the other work I’ve been doing for the last few months.
During the camp, I quickly discovered how much fun this challenge is. It has nothing to do with winning, although that’s a bonus. No, the real reason is because it encourages writers to write. Writing is the only way authors develop their skills. They can take classes and learn techniques, but if you never put pen to paper, so to speak, then you’ll never improve. Write, write, and write. When you think you’ve written enough write even more.
NaNoWriMo started a week ago and I’ve been spending most of my free time working on my rough draft for Survival. It’s a science fiction novel that takes place on a generational ship so large that it has three cities. The main character, an investigative reporter, is trying to find the answers that connect a list of people who have disappeared. Daniel Cory, the intrepid journalist, armed with his wits, the anonymous file containing the dossiers on the missing citizens and the backing of his studio will uncover more than he ever bargained for.
I had nothing prepared for this book except for an overview and a prepped Scrivener binder. But from November 1st to the sixth I’ve written a little over 11,500 words for Survival. That’s a rough average of 1920 per day. If I keep that pace I’ll be able to win NaNoWriMo 2019. That said I might be forced to abandon some of my other writing for the month, specifically some Wattpad flash fiction stories. It’s not ideal, but it is the reality that I find myself in. Especially since I need to hit the NaNoWriMo goal and finish updating Harrison & Sylvia Part 11.
I’m hoping that I’ll be able to get a chunk of work done this Veteran’s Day. Who knows? I might get lucky and squeeze everything into the month. Monitor my social media to see how this November pans out and happy reading.
]]>Unlike the initial assignment, when the latest one arrived, I knew how the story would unfold. I took the prompt, Historical Fiction at a school dance with a photo album, and crafted the tale that effortlessly flowed into my mind. After forty-eight hours, I submitted Letters. This time, instead of waiting for the results, I shared it on the NYC Midnight forums. And I got loads of feedback from other writers in the competition. Everyone who commented gave me excellent advice and suggestions about how I can improve. I’ve already started incorporating all the recommendations into my writing.
When I woke up this morning, I found the email with the results from the second challenge, and my stomach churned at the mystery. I opened the link and searched for my name. Unlike the initial results page, there was no byline identifying the stories. Instead, I found a list of everyone in the group ordered by the combined score for both entries. Despite placing within the top fifteen, I felt disappointed with the placement. Just like with Birthday Blowout, Letters came in thirteenth in the group giving me a grand total of six points.
With my journey in the 2019 competition ending, I’m looking forward to receiving the judges’ feedback. Refining my skills will be my top priority while I wait for next year’s contest. I’ll be using that advice to improve my skills using past prompts on my Patreon Site. This competition has sparked my passion for writing to new heights. I plan on entering this contest again next year, and I’m already adjusting my goals for 2020.
]]>The story starts with the main characters Simon Strong and Tristan Montague, chasing a werewolf. And the action never slows down. The two detectives are quickly swept up into a dangerous game between a mysterious antagonist (at least for a little while) and just as mysterious allies. Orlando Sanchez did a fantastic job of sucking me not only into the story but into the characters as well. I quickly found myself hoping this partnership will thrive and continue.
The only nitpick that I have with the book is Simon’s immortality. It’s mentioned early on and often throughout the book. And the author came up with some creative ways to scope or limit the benefit of immortality, but it felt like an afterthought to the story. And while there are tense moments in the book, I never felt that Simon was in any real danger, despite lines like
SOSS? What’s SOSS?
Sudden onset supernatural stupidity. New vampires think that because they’ve become immortal, they can’t die.
The line is excellent and delivered perfectly, but this can be a significant negative long term without the correct management.
Overall I enjoyed the book, and it’ll be interesting to see how Orlando Sanchez manages Simon’s immortality in future installments, like Full Moon Howl.
]]>Well, a couple of years ago, my friend partially pulled me back into the game. While I didn’t have a strong desire to follow his plunge, he captured my attention with one tidbit. He mentioned that one recent series. of cards was heavily inspired by Greek Mythology. Now unlike Rick Riordan’s work that reimagined the myths for a new generation of heroes, Theros, Born of the Gods, and Journey into Nyx made their own pantheon and shoved it into a world they crafted. But Wizard’s of the Coast went a step further in tandem with Jenna Helland brought the set out of the card game and delivered a two-part story.
The first book’s climax, while entertaining and well woven, came all too soon and left way too many dangling threads for my taste. That said, the author admirably filled the characters with such life that they leapt from the page. From the initial scene to the last, each of the characters, including the bickering gods, seemed real. They had clear motivations and desires, and the rotating storytelling did an excellent job keeping me entertained. I will definitely delve into the next tome to hopefully get the sense of closure that I hoped for from this book.
People who are diehard fans of either Greek mythology or Magic the Gathering would enjoy this story.
]]>Saul attempts to argue with his elected official to prevent an upcoming ban. But the mayor prefers listening to his next appointment…
The mayor lounged in his chair between appointments when his door slammed into the wall rattling the nearby picture frames. The politician swiveled to glare at the disruption, and he found his secretary, yanking on a stranger’s arm. Scowling Lewis rose, saying, “It’s okay, Alicia. I’m sure this gentleman’s appointment got lost in the mail.”
“Are you certain?” His administrator asked as she released her grip on the intruder.
“It’ll be fine.” The mayor smiled, offering the stranger his hand. “How are you doing today, sir?”
The man ignored the gesture, slamming the door shut once the secretary disappeared.
“There’s no reason to be rude, Mr….”
“My name’s Saul,” the stranger said, approaching the mayor’s desk. “And it’s difficult to remain civil when you keep trying to avoid me and the facts my group has sent you.”
With a slight huff, the mayor leaned against his desk while inviting his unexpected guest to take a chair. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, but you are here now, so please tell me what’s bothering you.”
The man brandished a manila folder filled with papers under the mayor’s nose. “You’ve been ignoring the truth to push your agenda, and that will harm the people you are trying to help.”
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When the shuttle touched down in front of the records building, Rylan opened the cockpit door, revealing Annabelle leaning against the wall. Rylan groaned, rapping his head against the doorframe with clenched eyes. “What do you want, Annabelle?”
“You’re not going alone,” Annabelle said as she glided over to him. “If you insist on keeping this trek small, then I’ll join you.”
“You’ll get in my way,” Rylan muttered shouldering past Annabelle. He tucked his helmet under an arm, adding, “I’m better off on my own. Besides, have you gotten anything from that storage assembly?”
“No,” Annabelle answered. “We don’t have the proper equipment to connect it to the shuttle.” She latched onto Rylan’s shoulder and yanked as she retorted, “And you’re aware of that. Argue all you want, but I’m joining you in this venture.”
He shook his head and scoffed. “You are an engineer, figure something out.” Rylan ripped himself from her grasp and stalked towards the craft’s ramp. “No, I’m going alone.”
Annabelle grumbled as she followed him, hands balled into fists.
Rylan tapped Darvan’s shoulder, saying, “Make sure that Annabelle stays on the shuttle.”
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Jessica’s current employer requires her to steal from other criminals. Though she doesn’t understand why she needs to hit the count room…
Jessica uncapped the vial and poured a few drops into the two drinks. After recapping the bottle, she stirred the contents, getting the added chemical mixed evenly. She lifted the small tray and maneuvered around the unconscious men littered everywhere. She stopped in front of a door and wiped at her skirt before knocking.
“What do you want?” A gruff voice answered.
She licked her lips and replied, “I’m here with your drinks.”
“It’s about time,” a different person grumbled. A chair slid back as the second individual continued. “I need my next drink. Open up and let her in.”
“Yeah, yeah,” the initial one groused. As Jessica lifted her hand to remind the men about her presence, the door swung inward, and a tall bald man waved her inside. “You’re not Karla.”
“Nope, she’s under the weather,” Jessica replied as she moved to block his sight.
The other man turned around in his chair and put his arm over the back. He examined Jessica and said, “I don’t care who it is, Carl. As long as she has our drinks, then she can come in.” He lifted an empty glass saying, “I need a refill.”
The bald man groaned as he twisted himself to glare at his partner. He scratched at his collar and cleared his throat objecting. “Michael, we can’t just let anyone in here.”
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Having recovered from her battle with the mysterious mercenary, Sylvia needs to escape the Central Kingdom. She understands that she needs more equipment to keep her one step ahead, and so she reaches out to Gregor. But Sylvia also needs to book passage away from the kingdom, and she has two modes open to her. She can trek across the open terrain or over the oceans.
Will she be able to arrange her flight? Or will the mysterious mercenary return and complete the job he started? And will she ever be able to identify her new enemies?
]]>“Isaac, wake up,” Jasmine chastised as she shoved the pilot’s arm.
The pilot ground his teeth growling. “I’m awake.” He cracked an eye as he swiveled to look at his copilot. “My eyes needed a rest nothing more. And you know from experience that poking me isn’t a smart move.”
Jasmine shook her head and adjusted the controls at her station. She leaned into her seat laying her feet on her console while she laced her fingers behind her neck. “We’re finishing the last circuit of the planet, we need to update the triumvirs.”
Isaac waved her comment away. “You don’t imagine Quinn or Caitlin will be concerned about a second or two, do you?”
“Those two won’t care,” Jasmine agreed. She winked, adding, “But I’m sure Olyver would complain about the delay.”
The pilot huffed as the door to the cockpit opened, and Britt walked to the third seat. “Are we ready to call the triumvirs?”
Grabbing his cup, Isaac peered into it. He downed the remnants of water before tossing it at Britt’s head. “What are you doing up here?”
The older man deflected the plastic and groaned at Jasmine. “Can’t you control him?”
“He tossed you out of the cockpit earlier, Britt.” Jasmine clicked her tongue taking her feet from the console and shrugged. “Isaac, we have to check-in, and Olyver insisted that Britt is the communication officer.”
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Sean is beaten, bruised, and bleeding. Each step inflicts him with agonizing pain and fatigue. Can he evade his pursuer, or will he succumb?
Sean gripped his shoulder as blood seeped through his fingers. Releasing the wound he collapsed into the wall. He whipped his head around and searched for signs of his pursuer. The trembling extremities fumbled for the building’s corner while he investigated his trail. The moment his fingertips found the edge he pulled himself into the slight protection it provided. But his feet slipped on the grimy floor, sending him face first into the pavement.
Pain lanced through him as he struggled to his knees. The dwindling light danced upon the edges of something half buried in the filth. Sean reached out for it, but his clammy hand trembled so much that he rammed it into the foundation. He took a deep breath and focused as he plucked the sparkling object off the ground.
“Come out, come out, wherever you are!” the psychopath cried out.
Sean forced his attention back to the thing dangling from his fist, an old leather belt. Choking off the manic laughter Sean wrapped it around his injured thigh and pulled it tight. Blood seeped from its edges, but he forced himself to continue fleeing. His hands reached out and gripped the building’s ragged panels and he used them to pull himself up.
“You can’t escape me, Sean.”
He took a step away from the booming words, but his leg buckled. He slammed his hands against the wall and shoved himself up and away from the foul garbage.
“I’ve never lost, Sean.”
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As for the show, it premiered on July 07, 2009 and ran through May 19, 2014 on the ScyFi network. Despite the terrible movies they produce, their shows always seem to be well thought out and populated with amazing characters. And Warehouse 13 is not the exception that proves the rule. The show stared Eddie McClintock as Pete Lattimer, Joanne Kelly as Myka Bering and Saul Rubinek as Artie Nelson. This core trio couldn’t have been cast any better, and their chemistry stood out from the initial scenes.
Although I’m not a huge fan of episodic shows, the writers did a marvelous job to weave in season-long arcs into those standalone episodes. By the end of the pilot, the show’s formula is defined. In fact, within the opening minutes, the tone of the series is well established with their motto.
“Snag it. Bag it. And tag it.”
It’s fun to watch the layering that takes place as the storytelling winds the massive arcs into its tapestry. And the stakes increase each week and every season. The writers encouraged this growth by adding wonderful characters to the series, either recurring characters or main characters. The first expansion came with the addition of Claudia Donovan portrayed by Allison Scagliotti, who brought fresh energy that never faded.
For anyone who has never seen this show, I cannot recommend Warehouse 13 enough. For those who have, I still think delving back into the mysteries of Warehouse 13 is worth the investment. Go enjoy the “Endless Wonder”.
]]>Volodar clutched his hands behind his back as he eyed the five boys arrayed before him. The instructor stopped next to Darren and sneered at the boy. He turned and locked eyes upon Darren and crooked his finger. “Come here, Darren.”
Darren’s head dragged as he slogged towards the teacher. He glanced over his shoulders and asked, “Why do you demonstrate everything on me?”
“Does it matter?” Volodar inquired, pointing at the four remaining boys.
Darren widened his stance and prepared himself for the demonstration. “It’d be nice if you picked on someone else now and then.”
With a wicked grin, Volodar sauntered back to the line of students and placed a hand on Maxwell and Norry, saying, “One pair.” Then he ambled over to Samil and Roland and rested his hands on their shoulders. “The other.”
“I’m the odd man out,” Darren grumbled.
“You are,” Volodar said with a resounding clap. “It’s good that this basic fact isn’t too much for your mind to process. If it were, Leodor might agree that you don’t belong in the Academy.”
“Can’t you pair me with a student instead of tormenting me?”
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To set the stage, the first volume, read my review here, exposed us to the story’s conflicts and characters. The second volume read that review here, brought us deeper into the world of Taldain and select members of the populous. I remember a burning desire for the third installment, the moment I concluded the second volume of this grand story. Without further ado, let’s delve into the heart of this review.
When reading any of Sanderson’s work, the first thing that leaps to my mind is the rich interwoven plots and character arcs. Those elements exist in this graphic novel, and I loved following the threads to their ultimate conclusions. Throughout the first two installments, the story gripped my mind, pulling me into this unique world. And the third book lifted the tale to a beautiful crescendo. While this epic tale is part of Sanderson’s Cosmere, to date, I’m reasonably confident we have seen nothing about this world’s shard(s). That changes here. In volume three, we receive the barest whispers of hints to the world’s shard(s).
Those hints come after resolving the main plots and the personal journeys’ of the characters, but before Sanderson establishes new dangling threads making us wonder what will happen next. And with the latest threads left dangling, I yearn for the next time we will see these characters. The characters grew leaps and bounds during this latest journey. One character’s compartmentalization amazed me so much that it reminded me of an episode of Farscape where Utu-Noranti Pralatong addressed Scorpius:
Oh, I do admire your compartmentalization of duplicity
This statement came when Scorpius showed how many sides he was playing against each other. And it’s an apt comparison to the arc of certain characters in this story.
Aside from the story, the other key factor for any graphic novel is the artwork. And the imagery and style of the artwork accompanying this story is impressive. There are multiple panels that I loved, which drew me in and spurred me to search out every detail that I could find. From the smallest box to full-page panels, the book looked amazing.
I felt satisfied with this trilogy’s conclusion. Through the extra threads established in the final pages, tickle at my mind building the raging desire to know more about the Cosmere. While I’ll recommend this series to anyone, I have a pair of problems with the third installment of this trilogy. The climax appeared rushed when compared to his other work. But that may well result from the difference in formats, so I’ll hold judgment until he produces another graphic novel for a better baseline. But my other problem is that I have more questions at the end of this story, and I don’t know when/if I’ll get satisfying answer(s). Aside from that gripe, I’m happy that I joined Sanderson on this latest journey into the Cosmere.
]]>“I never thought I’d see the day when I’d find you here willingly.” Nathaniel teased, clapping his friend’s shoulders.
With a disdainful scoff, Marcus retorted, “Normally neither of us come here.” Glaring up, he added, “And you know why I’m here.”
“I do,” Nathaniel responded as he slid into a chair next to his friend. “Any word on that front?”
Marcus’s face locked into a scowl. His knuckles whitened as he clenched his fists. “If the doctor’s equipment was proper, I might not be this nervous.”
“Unfortunately, we lost every modern medical device from the ship,” Nathaniel groaned. “But despite not having those miraculous devices, the doctors must know something.”
“I have heard nothing since they kicked me out,” Marcus moaned. He shoved his face into his palms and stifled a scream.
“They kicked you out?”
“Drop it!”
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Caleb lifted a fist as he knelt and stared into the forest through his rifle’s sights.
Derek coughed, muttering, “I’m the only one who can see you.”
With a glance at Derek, Caleb bit his lip. He took a few slow breaths staring into the dense woods. He studied the horizon watching the shapes that whirled there. He raised his radio and chirped, “Comms check.”
“Here,” Zeke’s voice echoed from the receiver.
“So are we,” Mika’s response came a moment later.
Derek knelt beside Caleb, examining their trail. Once satisfied, he tapped Caleb’s shoulder and asked, “What’s wrong?”
Caleb took a sharp breath and lowered his weapon. He leaned against the tree, scratching at his nose and continued to study the horizon. With a grunt, he spun to look at Derek and barked an order into the radio, “I want everyone to fall in on me, double time.”
“Roger that,” Engrim’s replied smoothly.
“Be right there,” Zeke answered.
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When she calmed her sorrowful eyes, Patricia lowered the book. As she studied the picture, she caught sight of the banner for the homecoming dance over their head. She ripped her gaze away from the photograph. With her fingers clutching at the album, she remembered her last night with James. The memory blazed in her mind as if it happened moments ago rather than just over a year ago.
Gripping each other’s hands, Patricia and James glided across the school’s auditorium. She barely heard the lyrics of Van Morrison’s Crazy Love or the conversations of the dancers filling the room. Ignoring the banner and the decorations, Patricia focused upon James’s bright eyes. She never wanted to tear her eyes away from his. Those vibrant orbs sucked her into them like a whirlpool yanking ships into the depths. Patricia sighed and smiled, leaning into his chest.
Flashing her a warm smile, James tightened his grip around her as they swayed. Pulling at her waist, James mouthed the chorus in time with Van Morrison. She give me love, love, love, love, crazy love.
Patricia’s smile deepened, and she said, “You’re sappy.”
Leaning closer to Patricia’s ear, James asked, “How am I sappy?”
Swaying to the ballad in James’s arms, Patricia laid her head down on his shoulder and quipped, “You’re kidding me, right?”
Kissing her, James inquired, “What are you talking about?”
Raising her head, Patricia asked, “How much did it cost you to get this song played for the dance?”
“Oh, that?” James asked. Choking a chuckle down, he answered, “It cost me enough. But we get to have an amazing night, so it’s worth it.”
“How does hearing this song once make for an amazing night?”
“Well, who said they’re only going to play it the once?” James asked, kissing her again.
“How many times are they going to play it?”
Keeping one arm wrapped around her waist, James lifted her chin with his other hand and whispered into her ear, “They’ll be playing it a few times.”
Losing herself in his gaze, Patricia retorted, “As I said, you’re sappy.”
With a warm smile, he mouthed along to the song again, Yes I need her in the daytime.
Patricia laid her head against his shoulder, saying, “Sappy, but it’s why I love you.”
The couple weaved their way through the other dancers. As the music faded, James escorted Patricia off the dance floor. As the notes of the next ballad began to ring out, the two rushed for the refreshments table. Plucking cups from the table, James guided her past the occupied chairs and found a pair of seats along the wall. Patricia sat down, taking the offered drink. When James sat down, she took a sip and asked, “What is it that you wanted to tell me?”
Looking at the dance floor, he took a sip from his cup, and asked, “What makes you think I have something to tell you?”
Patricia placed her cup on the floor before busying her hands with her dress. Batting her eyes, she answered, “You only get this sappy when you have something serious to talk about.”
Gulping down his punch, James bit down on his cup as he reached into his jacket. “Well,” James muttered around it, his eyes darted everywhere except at Patricia.
Catching the motion, Patricia’s hands flew together as a smile erupted. Her hands started clapping, and her eyes began to sparkle. “You have something for me!” Patricia squealed.
Pulling the cup from his mouth, James frowned as he pulled a letter out of his jacket.
Patricia’s excitement faded as she took the letter from him and saw his stony face.
“I know you thought it might be something else,” James said, wringing his hands. “But I’ve been drafted.”
“No!” Patricia spat as she dropped the letter.
Retrieving the letter, James stated, “I have to report tomorrow.”
“No! You don’t!” Patricia insisted.
Shoving the letter back into his coat, he responded, “Patricia, I have to go.”
“You’re wrong,” she corrected as she gripped his hand. “We have to go. We can go anywhere you want, but you cannot go to Vietnam. We’ve been together for three years. I don’t want to lose you.”
Scooting his chair closer to her, James wrapped an arm around her and squeezed her tightly. “I have to, but I’ll be back.”
“James, please don’t,” Patricia pleaded.
“Shhh,” he said, placing a finger against her lips. “Crazy Love is back on.” Standing up, he took her hand and pulled her up, saying, “Let’s have another dance.”
Blinking her eyes to push away the looming tears, she sang, “And the heaven’s open every time she smiles.”
Guiding her to the dance floor, he said, “I couldn’t agree more.” Wrapping his arms around her waist, he whispered the chorus into her ears. “She give me love, love, love, love, crazy love.”
Their foreheads touched as she tightened her grip around his neck. After a moment, she pleaded, “Please come back to me.”
“I’ll do everything I can,” James said as he pulled her into him and continued their dance.
As the memory began to fade, a tear started to roll down her cheek. As Patricia clenched her eyes, another tear escaped following the first’s path. When they collided a single drop of water fell from her chin onto the picture. With one hand she wiped the tear from James’s face, while she grabbed the letter on the table. All she could see were the words, killed in action. And the tears began to flow again.
]]>As Maxwell and Darren walked out of the cafeteria, the Dwarf clapped his friend’s back asking, “What are you doing with your day off?
Darren chuckled, giving his friend a sly smile. Rolling his shoulders, Darren leaned back to stretch out his sides. When he finished, he answered, “I’m going to visit an old friend.” Darren flashed the smile again and bolted for their dorm.
Shaking his head, Maxwell followed and asked, “What about your family?”
Darren scratched at his ear and answered, “I’ll visit my folks before I return.”
Maxwell laughed as he gripped the door’s handle and added, “You forgot about your parents, didn’t you?”
“No, I didn’t,” Darren replied as he brushed past the Dwarf and hurried up the stairs. “It’s just that I vanished from Randall’s life.”
With a bark of laughter, Maxwell snapped his stubby fingers. “Ahhhhh, the friend who shared your Dwarven bully?”
Gripping their room’s doorknob, Darren answered, “Yeah.” He yanked the door open and hurried into the room and grabbed his pack. Tossing it over his shoulder, he added, “Which means he’s getting the brunt of their attention. I need to make sure he’s okay.”
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“Your waitress will be right with you, sir,” the host said as he left Harold at a small little booth.
Taking his seat, Harold looked for a menu, but couldn’t find one. He reached for the host, but the man already managed to join some departing patrons. Scrunching his face up, Harold mumbled, “Thanks.” Tapping the edge of the table, he spoke to the empty seat across from him. “It’s not like I needed to calm my nerves.”
“Are you excited for a steak?” A soft and silky voice asked from behind him.
Whipping his head around, Harold found a woman leaning against the back of his booth. Her golden locks cascaded down her left shoulder, and she gave him a mischievous grin. Rubbing at his chest, Harold asked, “Do you always try to scare your customers to death?”
“Oh, honey,” the waitress responded as she stood up. She placed one hand on her chest and the other on his shoulder as she concluded, “I’d never try to scare you.”
“I’ll be fine,” Harold said as he rubbed at his five o’clock shadow.
Tapping on the back of the bench she asked, “Do you want anything to settle your nerves?” She gave him a wink and a gentle squeeze of his shoulder. “Of course you do. Is there anything in particular, you want to calm your nerves?”
“Rum and coke,” Harold answered. “And a menu.”
“Certainly, dear,” the waitress answered with another squeeze.
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When the door slammed shut, Olyver jumped to his feet. “We’re finally heading back out into space.”
Caitlin sighed, burying her head into her hand. “That’s not what Lambert told us, Olyver.”
While sitting down on the edge of his desk, Olyver glared at her. “What he told us was that the ship is ahead of schedule. If you recall the last update said the ship’s skeleton would take another month to complete.”
Sighing Caitlin rubbed at her brow as she plucked a pen from her desk. Whirling it through her fingers, she exhaled through her nose as she answered, “You know that was simply a projection.” Glaring up through her stretched fingers, she asked, “Right, Olyver?”
“The extra men have done nothing but help,” Olyver objected as he gestured with his hands. “And since you know that, why are you giving me grief about being happy?”
“We have to reassign the extra workers,” Caitlin explained shoving the pen in his direction.
Narrowing his eyes, Olyver questioned her. “When did Quinn enter the office?”
Slamming her hands on her desk, she jumped to her feet and snarled. “Despite whatever you want to say, you knew this measure wouldn’t last. Those workers are needed to get other projects done for the same goal.”
“Such as?”
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Nathaniel leaned against a wooden doorframe and waited for it to open. When it did, Marcus sauntered out of the cabin. Shaking his head, Marcus pulled the door closed behind him. Leaning against the wooden wall, he looked at his friend and asked, “What do you want, Nathaniel?”
Scoffing Nathaniel cocked his head, “That’s not a nice way to greet a friend.”
“Hello,” Marcus grumbled as he stalked over to a chair. Plopping down, he blabbered, “What do you want?”
With a huff, Nathaniel sat down next to Marcus. Tapping against the arm to the chair, he asked, “How are you farmers in the East doing?”
“Are you going door to door, Nathaniel?” Marcus asked as he crossed his feet and folded his arms across his chest. Bobbing his head, he drawled, “I don’t see the leader of this fledgling government doing that.” With a scoff, he pointed at the lone horse adding, “It’d take too long even with a team of horses. And you appear to have just the one.”
Lifting his hands in surrender, Nathaniel replied, “You’re right, Marcus. I’m not going door to door. The rest of the people in the East respect you, they talk to you.”
“Why does that bring you here?” Marcus asked, narrowing his eyes.
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Pushing the door open, Kyle, heard a chime. Looking past the register, Kyle saw a woman wrapped in baggy clothing glaring up at him. Readjusting his folder under his arm, Kyle strode to the counter, saying, “Good morning.”
The woman nodded, saying, “Is there anything I can do for you, sir?”
Kyle laid his folder down with great reverence, answering, “Just the biggest black coffee you have, please.”
Nodding, she grabbed the biggest cup and poured the steaming coffee into it. The smell wafted up, tickling Kyle’s nose. The barista put the lid on the cup and slid it over to Kyle.
“Thank you,” Kyle said as he handed her more than enough money. She wanted to object, but Kyle insisted, “Keep the change… miss…”
The barista tapped the name tag on her chest, saying, “Raquel.”
“Keep the change, Raquel,” Kyle said as he took a sip. Putting his coffee down, he leaned against the counter and stared at the cactus at the far end of the bar.
Raquel groaned and asked, “Can I help you with anything else, sir?”
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Tarian entered the infirmary, striding to Keldon’s bed. Gripping his friend’s hand, he asked, “How’s he doing?”
The doctor lifted a pad and answered, “It’s not good.”
“Dalton, spit it out,” Tarian commanded squeezing Keldon’s.
Dropping his pad onto Keldon’s bed, Dalton replied, “He’s not going to make it.”
Closing his eyes, Tarian dropped Keldon’s hand and slammed his fists into the bed. “I want to find whatever did this to him.” Looking over his shoulder, he eyed Caleb saying, “What do we know?”
“Not much, no one else survived,” Caleb replied.
“Not good enough,” Tarian growled.
Caleb eased from the wall saying, “Keldon didn’t let us know where his team went.” Pausing for a moment, he added, “The Elves are the only reason he’s here.”
“I need answers,” Tarian muttered, collapsing into his chair.
“I can’t give you any,” Caleb started wringing his hands.
Slamming his hands together, Tarian rose and tore his attention away from Caleb. Tarian focused on Dalton and commanded, “Save his life.”
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Leonard drifted through the cars lining the rental agency. Before he died, he loved meandering around the vehicles, specifically the sports cars. But now as a ghost, Leonard fumed at the injustice that kept him latched to the lot. As he floated towards the office, he noticed a little mouse rounding the corner. Following the small rodent, he saw it creeping up to a mousetrap.
With a moment’s concentration, Leonard appeared next to the trap and plucked the cheese off it. As he lifted it, the hunk tumbled through his fingers. Colliding with the lever, the morsel of cheese sprung the trap. The mouse quickly snared the tumbling bite and vanished.
Sighing Leonard levitated. As he rose, he searched the lot for the one thing holding him there. As he rose above the small building, he saw his anchor leading Marla and June to the office. Passing into the building, he witnessed the trio enter, while Derek said, “We can take care of that for you, Marla.”
Leonard grimaced at Derek’s casual touch of Marla’s shoulder.
June squeaked and stared right into Derek’s eyes.
Reaching out Marla touched June’s shoulder, asking, “Are you okay?”
The friend raised a trembling finger and asked, “Do either of you see anything?”
Derek and Marla turned to study where June pointed. But after a moment, Derek stepped towards June, saying, “There’s nothing there.”
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This past Monday, I published my piece, Birthday Blowout, to my site for the world to see. And I plan on reading it to my reading group this Friday. Unfortunately, before I saw that email, I didn’t know how the story was received. Cracking the email open, I started reading. As I processed each word, I tried to ignore the butterflies fluttering through my stomach like sharks going after their prey.
When I found the link to the results page, I followed it and started searching for my group. When I saw the first entry, I felt a pang of fear and a moment’s happiness for the 1st place winner. But I wanted to find my name, so I kept looking. As I kept reading and dismissing names, I forced myself to take a deep breath and remember that comedy isn’t my strength. When my eyes fell to the 13th spot, I did a double-take when I saw my name. The joy that raced through me was palpable. I mean I felt the same level of pleasure seeing my name on that list as I did when I published Dead Man’s Hand and Drawing Thin.
I’m still waiting to get the feedback, but I’ve been revitalized for the second round. This Friday cannot come soon enough. I’m eager to receive and absorb the feedback from the judges and to craft my second entry. In the meantime, please use the link below to read Birthday Blowout.
]]>After failing to save her employer. Kameron lay dead at Sylvia’s feet, and she tried to chase after the assassin. Unfortunately for her, a guard’s arrow rendered her unconscious. Waking up in a dungeon, Sylvia needs to escape. It is the only way to discover the root of the conspiracy that ended with Kameron’s death.
The master of shadows faces insurmountable odds. Will she escape a dungeon designed to contain rouge wizards? If she can will she ever discover the leader of the conspiracy? And of course, the question of the assassin’s identity looms over her.
]]>“I am,” he replied as he broke her grip, “I was worried that you were going to be late.”
“It’s my birthday, and you didn’t wait outside for me. Just because you had your own ticket…” Jasmine teased with a grin. Her hand absently brushed against her pendant as she continued, “Now can we go watch our movie.”
Moving her hand aside, he lifted the pendant, “What’s this, babe?”
Jasmine sighed and unclasped the pendant, passing it to Damien, “Birthday present from my brother, Chase.”
Taking the ring of metal, Damien ran his fingers along each of the blades. “Where did he find a hexagon made out of swords?”
“I have no idea,” Jasmine answered, pulling him towards their theater.
Damien opened the door, letting Jasmine in first. She led them through the short hallway to their seats. When they rounded the corner, she gasped, and Damien followed her gaze and found someone kneeling over a large box. He took a step and asked, “Hey, what are you doing?”
The man lifted his head, and they caught sight of the flamboyant suit. The dim light did nothing to tone down his silver pants and jacket. Standing up, the wiry stranger raised his hands in welcome, “Oh look! More guests for my debut.”
Stepping in front of Jasmine, Damien asked, “What debut would that be?”
“My message will be heard,” the man declared stepping in front of the box.
“We’re in the right theater, right?” Jasmine asked.
Pointing at the box, Damien asked, “What kind of message do you keep in a box? You have a dead animal in there or something?”
“No,” the man replied, walking toward them, “nothing so trite.”
Damien whispered to Jasmine, “Find out what’s in that box.”
“What are you going to do?” Jasmine whispered.
“Give you the chance to figure it out,” Damien answered as he walked towards the wackadoo. “Would you like me to get an attendant in here to help get that out?”
The weirdo flashed a manic grin at Damien, “No. It would spoil the message.”
Damien reached out for the maniac’s hand. But he dropped, sweeping Damien’s legs out from under him.
“Damien!” Jasmine squealed.
The silver stranger rose to his feet and strode towards her. Rolling to his stomach, Damien reached out for the man’s legs but only managed to get a grip on his pants. With a swift pull, Damien screamed, “Not so fast, Slinky!” The pants slid down the lunatic’s leg tripping him. Glancing at Jasmine, Damien shouted, “Check the box!”
Nodding, Jasmine rushed to the box, peered inside and squeaked.
The maniac turned over, yanking his pants up. Removing his silver jacket, the man fished for his suspenders. Damien scrambled to his feet and got between the stranger and Jasmine. “What’s going on?”
“It’s a bomb!” Jasmine squealed.
“A bomb!” Damien took a step away from the bomber, “What kind of debut involves a bomb, Slinky?!”
“Mine,” the bomber said as he secured his suspenders. Taking a step towards Damien, he bellowed, “And don’t call me Slinky!”
“Damien, there’s a timer!”
“Great,” Damien said as he ducked the wackadoo’s fist. Lunging into the silver stranger, he muttered, “I’m sorry, but flashy bombers like you get to be called Slinky.” Wrapping his arms around the bomber, Damien drove him into the floor.
The nut job wheezed as his shoulder hit the ground, and again when Damien flattened him to the floor. Flipping the stranger onto his stomach, Damien pulled Slinky’s arms back and asked Jasmine, “How much time do we have?”
“A couple of minutes,” Jasmine whimpered.
“Can you stop it?”
“How?” Jasmine wailed. Looking from the bomber back to the bomb, she whined, “I’m not a member of the bomb squad.”
“Is there anything we can use to tie him up?”
Looking around, Jasmine found a canvas bag. Tossing Devin the bag, she chirped, “Try this.”
Rummaging through the bag, Damien found some zip-ties, “These should work!”
Dropping the sack, Damien barked, “Disarm the bomb!”
“You want me to disarm it?”
“Would you rather tie him up?”
Jasmine looked at the silver stranger and then bent to examine the bomb, “You have any bright ideas?”
“I don’t know,” Damien muttered as he lashed the wriggling bomber’s wrists together. “Look for an off switch or something.”
“An off switch?” Jasmine mocked. “Oh yeah, cause mad bombers really want to make diffusing their bombs easy.”
“Slinky the bomber is dressed in a silver suit,” Damien muttered as he managed to tie the bomber’s ankles together. “Just look for one!”
Jasmine groaned, but she leaned into the box and looked, “There’s no switch!”
“Did you check everywhere?” Damien asked as hurried over to the bomb.
“Making me search for a switch on a bomb,” Jasmine muttered. “You really know how to make a girl feel special on her birthday,” Jasmine quipped. She reached into the box anyway running her hand along the bottom of the bomb. The timer loomed next to her eye, and she watched seconds tick away. “There’s no switch! We need to get out of here!”
Damien plopped down next to her and reached his hand under the bottom and started hurriedly searching for a switch too. A moment later, Jasmine groaned, “Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me?”
“What?”
“I can’t believe it.”
“Did you find a switch?”
“Yeah,” Jasmine replied dumbly. “I can’t freaking believe it.”
“Flip it!” Damien howled.
Jasmine flipped the switch, and nothing happened. They stayed crouched there for a few moments until Damien asked, “Did we stop it?”
“BOOM!” Jasmine yelled in his ear, making him jump. “We stopped it!”
Rubbing at his chest, Damien muttered, “See an off switch wasn’t such a stupid idea.”
Sitting down next to him, Jasmine muttered, “Even broken clocks are right twice a day.”
Rubbing his hands, Damien asked, “Do you think we’ll get free popcorn for the movie?”
]]>“Why are we heading back to the planet, Cederic?” Sybell asked with her shoulders hunched over her scanner.
Cederic studied his controls before answering, “Because the captain told us to get more information about those life signs.”
“What did you do to get him angry?”
Scoffing, Cederic angled the ship for atmospheric entry muttering, “I wish I knew.” As they eased into the clouds, Cederic altered course for the densest source of life asking, “What’s the status of that winged monstrosity?”
“I would have told you about it, if I saw it,” Sybell retorted.
“A simple nothing to see would have sufficed, Sybell,” Cederic rebuked. Pulling up the sensor logs, Cederic realized the patch of life as a battlefield. He maneuvered the craft for excellent visibility while remaining unseen. Flipping his comms channel open, he barked, “Tegan, Jeras, and Ronald get ready.”
“Why are we risking our necks like this again?” Tegan asked.
“Because the captain said so,” Sybell spat.
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To continue reading the story, click here to head over to Wattpad.
Click the cover below for Drawing Thin’s Amazon page.
In addition to the Patreon only stories that I publish, with this tier, you also get to vote for the genres that I write. I post a patron-only poll with seventeen different genres, on the first Monday of the month. As a patron, each month you can vote for any three genres that you want me to write a story for. The following Saturday, I collect the results, and the top three genres form the basis of the upcoming stories.
Stewart, Marty, and Vera are backpacking through a ravine and presented with a race to fund their future. Which friend will win the prize…
]]>Standing with his hands clasped behind his back, Lambert addressed the three triumvirs. “We’re finishing the space docks, sooner than expected.”
Olyver clapped his hands like an excited child. His head twitched to address his fellow triumvirs, “That is fantastic news, Lambert. Wouldn’t you agree, Quinn?”
Quinn nodded.
Caitlin whispered, “It certainly helps.”
“Unfortunately, it took an entire year to complete,” Olyver complained. Inching closer to the edge of his desk, Olyver’s eager eyes danced as he asked, “How quickly will you be able to finish the first ship?”
Lambert slouched as he rubbed at his chin. After a moment, he answered, “We should be able to test the first ship, in a year and a half.”
“You can’t do any better?” Olyver asked.
Folding his hand behind his back, Lambert replied, “We may be able to get it down to a year.” Looking at Quinn, Lambert continued, “But that would require us diverting our attention away from other work.”
“Thank you, Lambert,” Quinn interjected. “We’ll let you know about that.”
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Leaning against the wall of Nathaniel’s office, Marcus scoured the wall with his foot. Whipping his head around, Marcus dropped his arms to his side and whimpered.
Without looking up, Nathaniel asked, “What’s wrong?”
Marcus stared at his friend and complained, “What’s keeping Talia? She knows that she needs to be here for this, right?”
Nathaniel looked up and smiled, “She’ll be here, Marcus.” Repositioning himself, Nathaniel pointed at the seat across from him. “She’s not the one you need to worry about, you know.”
“What are you talking about Nathaniel?” Marcus asked, stomping towards the table. He ran his finger along the desk and muttered, “This isn’t a good desk.”
Nathaniel raised an eyebrow.
Marcus leaned over the desk and stated, “You would think you folks here in the Central Region would have better furnishings than this.”
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“I can’t believe this,” Tarian complained as he looked around the makeshift mess hall. Dropping his head onto a palm, Tarian forced a smile to his face as he examined those enjoying the meal.
Keldon swallowed his bite, then looked at his friend and commented, “You look annoyed, Tarian.”
Scratching at his eyebrows, Tarian groused, “This is the second banquet we’ve held, Kel.”
“Has it only been two?” Keldon asked as he stabbed a chunk of meat with his fork.
Tarian’s fingers began drumming next to his empty plate. Looking around the recently crafted tables and benches, Tarian lifted his glass and stared at the pale amber liquid at the bottom of the cup. “Yes, Kel, we’ve had two banquets with the elves and dwarves, not counting the one after they broke the assault.” He took a sip, managing not to cough from the strength of the wine.
Laughing, Keldon clapped his friend’s back. Then he purposefully took a swig of his wine goblet and sighed with satisfaction. Putting the cup back down, he leaned over and whispered, “If you’re serious about this alliance of yours, Tarian, you’ll have to get used to drinking this wine.”
“I know,” Tarian grumbled as he tilted his goblet back to him. “I will say that it’s very flavorful.”
“The elves won’t drink anything else,” Keldon said. “So drink up and get used to it.”
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“Darren, wake up!”
Darren stirred in his bed and tried to knock away whatever kept poking at him.
“Darren, you need to wake up,” someone said as the rocking resumed.
The young man cracked his eyes and searched for the source of the annoyance. Darren discovered Maxwell, and he groggily spoke, “What are you going on about?”
“It’s morning meal,” Maxwell replied with a smile as he tossed his new roommate a change of clothes. “Let’s get going, or we’ll be late.”
Swinging his legs off the bed, Darren rubbed the sleep from his eyes, asking, “Max, what do you mean, it’s time for the morning meal?”
The dwarf leaned against the doorframe, “I guess the teacher who dropped you off didn’t tell you anything about the school.” Maxwell shook his head and stated, “I’m guessing Volodar dropped you off. He likes to mess with new students.”
“Max,” Darren groaned as he lifted the fresh clothes. “What does that have to do with a morning meal?”
“There aren’t many students here,” Maxwell answered. “As a result, all the meals are mandatory.”
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Rylan shouldered his pack glancing behind him and noted the people following him. Clearing his throat, he barked an order, “We’re going to split up here.”
“What’s the plan?” Annabelle asked as she placed her hand on him.
Brushing her hand off, Rylan looked for a generator. His eyes stopped on the only man foolish enough to carry two of the portable generators. “Darvan, give me one of those.”
The muscular man walked over and surrendered the generator to Rylan, “What about the other one?”
“Go with Annabelle,” Rylan commanded as he shifted his gaze to Annabelle. “Take everyone and go investigate the Central Plexas.”
“You can’t go alone,” Annabelle objected.
“Yes, I can,” Rylan insisted. “I know the platform well enough to handle it alone,” Rylan responded as he lifted the generator. “With this and my tools, I’ll have everything I need. Keep in touch and your eyes on the time.”
Rylan took a step towards the platform chamber and bellowed, “Everyone set your radios to channel two and keep your eyes open.”
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Take a look at the image below courtesy of Kalen Emsley. And if you like it here, you should check out the high-resolution version of the picture. After having sifted through these kinds of scenes, I’m eager to get this trip started.
I am not a city boy. I’m not the guy who can look out of a window and be wowed by a cityscape. But the above image. Now that’s one of the most beautiful things I’ve ever seen. I cannot wait to see it in person.
Starting Monday, August 5th, I’m going to unplug myself from the world. Aside from any pictures that I post to Facebook, and a scheduled Patreon post, I’m not going to do anything online until August 11th, when I get home. But that doesn’t mean that I won’t still be writing. I’m merely going low tech. I’ll have a clipboard with me so that I can give Drawing Thin. Either that or I’ll let the rampant ideas running around my noggen a chance to escape.
I can’t think of a better way to relax for a week.
]]>Fresh off his discovery, Harrison sends word to Jacob about the success. Shortly after posting the note, Jacob’s messenger arrives and invites Harrison to a private conversation with the King. During that discussion, Jacob informs demands an adequate demonstration of the alternative. Harrison must survive an encounter with a crossbow bolt.
At the King’s insistence, Harrison invites his father, Lucas Roth and Kylee to attend the event. But he also hides the truth behind the event by that same order. Over three weeks, Harrison crafts his suit that approximate the power of the stone. Come follow Harrison’s journey in proving that his creation will protect him.
]]>Throwing the door open Olyver stalked towards Quinn’s desk. “Where is Caitlin?” Olyver growled as he slammed his hands down upon the desk, emphasizing his displeasure.
Ignoring the outburst, Quinn flipped through more of the papers in front of him. Without looking away from his work, he asked, “Does it matter, Olyver?”
Pulling a document from his coat, Olyver snarled, “We have to make progress on the draft or the ships.” Slapping the papers out of Quinn’s hands, he threw the document into the man’s chest, growling, “We’ve had this document for a month, and we haven’t ratified it.”
Lifting the draft, Quinn countered, “What makes you think the draft will be ratified?”
“We have to ratify the draft!” Olyver screamed.
“No, we don’t,” Quinn said, gathering the scattered papers around his desk. When he grabbed the last of the documents, he placed it on top of his skewed stack. Folding his hands together, Quinn glared up at Olyver and finished, “What we need to do is take that charter and perfect it.”
“And we cannot do that without Caitlin,” Olyver groused through a sneer.
Rising Quinn folded his arms behind his back and circled his desk to stand in front of the irate triumvir. Ignoring Olyver’s reddening face, Quinn asked, “Why are you in such a rush, Olyver?”
“Impatient,” Olyver stammered. “Why are you two sandbagging this?”
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Lloyd walked over to Tarian, “The Dwarves are obliterating the back ranks of the enemy.”
Tarian shifted the telescope towards the back ranks, and he saw the Dwarven warriors slice through the rear ranks of the horde. Relief washed over Tarian as he slouched upon the top of the wall, “The Elves and the Dwarves arrived just in time.”
“What are we going to have to give them?” Sherry asked through her fingers.
Lloyd glowered at her, commenting, “The middle ranks of the enemy are falling to the Elven arrows as quickly as the ones under the Dwarven weapons.”
“That’s my problem,” Sherry retorted thrusting her arms behind her back.
“Oh, give me a break,” Lloyd muttered.
“Lloyd, this is serious,” Sherry said with a shrill to her words. “I can’t be the only one afraid that they’ll turn on us.”
Standing up from the crumbling wall, Tarian turned around, putting a hand on Lloyd’s and Sherry’s shoulder. “Sherry, we needed help, and they answered our call.” With a gentle squeeze, he whispered to her, “Look upon the battlefield. It’s taken all our collective power to eradicate this scourge.”
“Tarian, we can’t trust them,” Sherry pleaded in a whisper.
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Holding his suitcase in his quivering hands, Darren stood in front of the door to his room. With a furtive glance back at the teacher, who disappeared into the stairwell. He stood there staring at the door for what felt like hours, but the closing of the stairwell door jolted him into motion. With his stomach twisting upon itself, Darren lowered one of his suitcases to the floor and clenched his right hand into a tight fist. Darren raised his clenched timidly reached out to rasp on the door. The moment before his hand could rasp the door, his hand froze.
Yanking his hand away, Darren’s fingers flew to his suitcase as the door swung inward. A stocky boy half a head shorter than Darren gasped in shock, “Oh!”
“Hi,” Darren said, taking a step away from the door.
The brown-haired youth grinned as he extended his calloused hands, “Hello, I guess you’re my new roommate.”
“I guess I am,” Darren mumbled as he eyed the boy’s hand.
“Are you okay,” the boy pulled his hand back. “My name’s Maxwell Creegan,” the boy said, tapping his chest with two thick fingers.
Swallowing the sudden lump in his throat, Darren rubbed at his chest creaking, “You’re a dwarf.
Placing his hands on his hips, Maxwell glared at Darren and growled, “Do you have a problem with that?”
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Pausing his flight, Marc retorted, “Don’t get cocky, Thomas.” Turning around slowly, Marc wiped at the pooling blood on his cheek. Looking down at his hand, Marc’s initial comment died on his lips. Lifting his eyes, Marc saw the hunger behind Thomas’s eye. “Just because you’ve caught every rouge you’ve ever hunted, doesn’t mean that you’ll be able to catch me.”
Shaking his head, Thomas mourned, “That’s exactly what it means.”
Taking a step away from his relentless stalker, Marc needed a moment to fully recover. “Why won’t you leave us alone? We didn’t do anything to you!”
“You don’t belong with the rabble!” Thomas retorted as he continued to stalk towards his wounded prey.
“I won’t impose my will on the whole world!” Marc bellowed as he pulled his hands into himself and screamed, “Ni-Ta-Ra!” A blue sphere of force exploded into existence around him. The power of the explosion tore trees from the ground, flinging them in every direction.
Thomas cried out, “Hen-Fain! Des-Rin!” Thomas spread his feet and waited as the once living shrapnel tore through the small grove. The incoming trees passed right through him. As the devastation quieted down, Thomas strode towards Marc saying, “That was impressive for a rouge. Who taught you this level of control?”
“The arrogance of the council,” Marc muttered behind his shield of blue.
Striding through the devastated trees and other debris, Thomas reached out and touched the dome. The translucent barrier held like a brick wall. “This is an advanced spell, not something someone could think of on their own. Who has been sheltering you?”
“You know what,” Marc said as his head began searching the forest. “I think your arrogance even rivals that of the council.”
“I’ve never failed,” Thomas declared. “And I never will!”
“For everything, there is a first time,” Marc quipped as he took a defensive stance within his protective bubble.
Thomas’s hands flew into motion, and fear drained the color from Marc’s face. He recognized the runes the other wizard traced in the air. He knew the shape of the spell that the hunter was working. Marc crouched down to touch the earth and muttered “Ja-Rein.”
Once his barrier vanished, Marc leapt into the sky and started tracing his own series of runes. When he finished tracing the last one, Marc cried out, “Hein-keh-ri!” Instantly his cape billowed out, growing in size and gaining the definition that only bone could provide. In the blink of an eye, the cape completed its transformation and a massive set of wings pounded against the earth propelling Marc above the trees.
The sudden transition back to flight shocked Thomas, and he lost track of the spell he’d been working. The gathered energy dispersed back into the world as he howled in rage at the shrinking outline of the rogue wizard. With a shift in his focus, he threw three explosive spells after Marc. Sensing the incoming spells, Marc threw one of his own at the incoming spheres of destruction. As the two spells collided, an explosion ripped through the air causing Marc’s wings to falter. He managed to right himself in the fading colors.
“I told you that you couldn’t escape me,” Thomas yelled as he soared at me with his own set of wings flapping furiously.
Without thinking, Marc threw another sphere of blue light at the encroaching hunter. But the talented hunter deflected the strike upward within resulting in another explosion that lit the night’s sky. The blue from Marc’s spell mixed with the red of Thomas’s resulting in streaks of purple. The two flew away from each other and hovered in the air as they began summoning magical salvos. Within moments the night was colored by their waring spells.
“You can’t keep this up forever,” Thomas stated between gasps.
“Neither can you,” Marc retorted as he unleashed three spells in rapid succession. The moment he unleashed his third spell, he wrapped himself in darkness and folded his wings upon himself.
The incoming spells consumed all of Thomas’s attention, allowing the plummeting Marc to escape from the fight. Just as he came to the trees, Marc flung his wings wide and glided to the nearest village. Ditching the wings, Marc cast an illusion to alter his face for a time and wandered to the center of the small town, following the whispers.
Reaching one of the dispersing villagers, Marc asked, “What’s with all the commotion?”
“How could you have missed the fireworks?”
“Fireworks?” Marc asked as he absently looked to where he fought with Thomas. Returning his attention to the villager, he nodded his head towards her and blurted, “I’m a heavy sleeper. But now I wish that I’d been awake, events like that are rare.”
“They are,” the woman replied as she hurried back to her home.
Pulling his coat up around his neck, Marc hurried away from the village. Looking up at the stars, Marc oriented himself back towards his destination. With a deep breath of chilly air, Marc shuddered. Taking another first step towards safety, Marc took solace that for the moment he managed to escape the wrath of the council’s most feared hunter.
]]>I didn’t dig into the company at the time, but my fiancé suggested that I take a look at the platform, so I went to their site and started to explore. After going through the website, I saw just how large the platform is. There are a lot of books on the platform, and there appears to be a vast collection of readers. Walking through the process of creating a book, Wrattpad suggests that a cover will help attract attention, and they have a partnership with Desygner to help authors create beautiful covers.
With a fantastic first impression, I decided to dip my toes into the platform, transitioning one of my flash fiction series to the platform. After a brief examination of my current catalog, I decided to transition my Darren Gilbert series to Wrattpad. After the ease at which I managed to copy it over, I’m thinking about moving more of my work, including Harrison & Sylvia, to the new platform as well.
I will continue to notify my readers to the new release of Darren Gilbert’s saga through my website and social media. Please check out Wrattpad to explore another rich source of literature to explore, and while you’re there, keep an eye out on my collection.
For those who haven’t read any of Darren Gilbert’s Journeys, follow the link to start joining Darren on his journey through life.
]]>Knowing that the competition would start in July, I kept my eye out on their website, so I could pounce on the opportunity. When NYC Midnight announced the 11th Annual Flash Fiction Challenge, I registered for it back in May and marked my Calendar for July 12th, the date of my first foray into the competition.
As the twelve loomed, I started getting excited about receiving my first prompt. And when eleven fifty-nine rolled around this past Friday, I received my first prompt. I needed to write a comedy taking place in a movie theater, and the story needed to include a sword. Comedy is not my forte, and after spending the weekend writing one, I tip my hat to all the writers who make their living working in this format.
I spent the first leg of the competition trying to figure out a storyline and how to make it work as a comedy. When I finished my first draft, I groaned when I realized that it firmly landed in the thriller genre (something I’m more at home with). Throughout the next few revisions, I furiously worked on weeding out as much of the thriller aspects that I could while I layer in all the Adam West Batman campiness that I could muster. When I finished, I looked at my first entry, and my excitement skyrocketed. Right now, I’m waiting to hear back from the judges, I’m eager to get their feedback so I can fold it into my future work. I also want to know how I did in my group.
]]>“Excellent,” Cederic answered, bringing the shuttle to a near motionless hover. “Have we figured anything else out, yet?”
“No,” Sybell droned, returning her attention to the consoles.
Cederic ground his teeth but managed to ask, “How deeply are they buried?”
“Fortunately, the ships are close to the surface” Sybell chirped. “We should be able to dig a path to them quickly.“
Gliding the ship into position over the first ship Cederic ordered, “Start making the paths, Sybell.”
“Aye, sir,” Sybell answered.
Tapping at his comms, Cederic barked out a command, “Jeras, Ronald and Tegan, grab your gear and get ready to explore ship number one.”
“Yes, sir,” Tegan squeaked.
“What will we be looking for?” Jeras asked as his voice resonated in Cederic’s ear.
With a sudden lurch, the shuttle dropped, coming to rest, so the grass tickled the hull. Craning his neck, Cederic muttered, “How am I supposed to know what you’re looking for? These ships are ancient Larian ships, on a planet that doesn’t exist in the Larian database. Get in and get as much as you can. Is that understood?”
“Yes, sir,” Ronald answered. “How are we getting in?”
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“Yeah, I’ll be fine Talia,” he answered, smiling as he turned to look at the spindly woman. “I just wish they paid more attention to our survival.”
Putting her hands on her hips, Talia sighed with exasperation, “Stop exaggerating, you know they’re focusing on our survival. The Western region started breeding the surviving animals.”
“Easy Talia,” Marcus said as he raised his hands in surrender. He walked over to a tree and leaned against it, “I wasn’t trying to diminish your good work. The constant political games bother me.”
“I understand that,” Talia agreed joining his struggle to keep the tree from collapsing.
The two stood there in silence, staring back at the large cabin for a time when Marcus asked, “How were we able to get the animals out of storage?”
“What do you mean?”
Marcus spun to face Talia, “The ship crash landed because of a massive power failure.”
“I’m aware of that, Marcus,” Talia retorted with a stern glare.
Marcus dismissed the look with a wave and continued, “You’re missing the point of my question, Talia.”
Talia took a couple steps forcing Marcus to backpedal as she asked, “Am I?”
“Yes, you are,” Marcus replied as he dug his heels into the ground. “If the ship didn’t have enough power to land, how did it have enough to get any of the animals out of the storage system?”
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Harrison is at home and receives a visit from the King’s messenger. With a royal summons in hand, Harrison seeks out his father. His father takes the King’s missive and reviews it. Then he dispatches his son to King’s Isle with all haste. Within hours Harrison boards the family’s yacht and sets sail to the family’s home on the King’s Isle.
Upon Harrison’s arrival, the steward, Gabriel, hurries him to the King’s manner. After a lengthy wait, Harrison and the King exchanging pleasantries. Then the King hands Harrison a relic and a poignant demonstration. Come follow Harrison’s first interaction with the King of the Isles.
]]>Come to the museum. Find the three paintings each with a mother and child and sit on the couch at six this evening.
Twisting his wrist, Lucious looked at his watch and mumbled, “Fifteen minutes early.” Crumpling the note, Lucious shoved the paper ball into his pocket and sat down on the couch in the middle of the little nook. He leaned against the back of the sofa, staring at the center portrait. He let his eyes dance upon every line of the woman and child glorified in the central canvas. While he absorbed the painting’s beauty, Lucious’s hand reached for the top of his head. Absently he rubbed at his bald spot and then removed his glasses.
As Lucious rubbed his eyes, a man with grey hair poking out from under a baseball cap sat down next to him. Lucious returned his glasses and joined the man in studying the portrait. After a short time, the old man asked, “How are you doing, Lucious?”
Lucious cocked his head and asked, “Do I know you?”
The man laughed, and it felt familiar. The old man stopped laughing as he pulled off his hat. Clenching the brim of the hat in one hand the man pulled his left leg up onto the couch and turned to answer Lucious, “I know you very well, my boy. Though you won’t know me for some time.”
Lucious scoffed as he pulled out the note, “Is this your handiwork?”
The greying man smiled and gave a curt nod, “I needed to speak with you.”
Shaking his head, Lucious stood up, but the old man grabbed his arm and pulled him back to the couch. “Lucious, I already told we need to talk.”
“I don’t know you,” Lucious stated as he tried to lean away from the old man. “And since I don’t know you I’m not going to talk to you.”
Flashing Lucious a smile, the old man pulled Lucious closer to him and whispered, “Do you remember what you did when you were twelve?”
“What?” Lucious asked as he tried to squirm out of the older man’s grasp.
“When you were fifteen,” the greying man said with a coy smile. “You snuck into your parent’s liquor cabinet and swiped a bottle.”
“How could you know that?” Lucious demanded as he ripped the older man’s arms from his shoulders. “Only my parents knew about that!”
The old man’s smile continued to spread, showing his teeth, “Of course, that’s not the interesting part of the story.”
“Yeah, yeah okay,” Lucious said tersely. “Who are you, and how do you know about that?”
The elderly man wrung his cap as he turned to stare at the center mother and child. After a few moments of reflection, the older man pointed at the painting, asking, “What does this painting say to you?”
“What?”
“Your first thoughts,” the older man clarified.
Harrumphing Lucious stalked to the portrait stuffing his hands into his pockets. He studied the painting, and without turning around, he replied, “Love and beauty.”
“Love and beauty,” the other man repeated in a whisper. “Two simple words that have such meaning don’t you think?”
With his scowl deepening, Lucious glared at the man demanding, “Who are you?”
“You’ll have a choice to make in a couple of days,” the man said as he removed his glasses and started cleaning them. When he finished, he put them back on and added, “Remember those words when your choice is upon you.”
“Seriously, who are you?” Lucious demanded as he grabbed at his thinning hair.
“I hope we never meet again, Lucious.” The man inclined his head, continuing, “When the time comes, remember what you saw here.”
The older man pointed at the portrait, and then he tapped Lucious’s chest, “And remember to follow those words when your choice comes.” The old man turned and took a couple of steps before stopping to add, “Your choice will have a far greater impact than you can ever know, Lucious. Make your choice wisely.”
The man resumed his walk out of the hall. It took Lucious a moment to recover from the words, and when he did, he raced to find the old man. As soon as he caught up with the man, he grabbed the man’s arm and jumped in front of him, whispering, “Who are you?”
The man chuckled as he eased Lucious’s hand from his arm and pulled Lucious closer to him. With a wink, the old man asked, “Who do you think I am, Lucious?”
“The only thing I can think of doesn’t make sense,” Lucious quavered. Looking around the room for attentive ears, he stuttered, “Wh… What I think isn’t possible.”
“Of course you’re right, Lucious,” the older man agreed. Clicking his tongue, the old man pulled the cap on before pulling Lucious even closer. “As of right now, the explanation circling around in your mind is impossible. But that doesn’t mean that such an explanation is impossible for me.”
“How? Why? How?” Lucious asked as he timidly reached to touch the man’s face.
“I can’t tell you anything,” the elderly man said, waving a finger in front of Lucious. “As far as why? Well, I’m here to make sure you tread the right path.” The older man pulled a device from his pocket and went on, “Remember your first thoughts of that painting.”
The man let go of Lucious walking into a patch of shadows. Turning around, the old man gave Lucious a smile and waved goodbye.
Returning the wave, Lucious said, “Thank you, Lucious.”
“Goodbye, Lucious,” the old man said as he pressed a button on the device and vanished.
Lucious scoffed and shook his head. With a grin, he made his way for the exit, walking as if an enormous weight had been lifted from his shoulders. Muttering, “It’s not often I can thank myself for quality advice.”
]]>The man inclined his head, “My name is Leodor Sultasar.” Lifting his head, he asked, “I assume you’re Darren’s parents. May I come in?”
“Oh,” Darren’s mother squeaked. “I’m sorry for my husband’s tone, we’re worried about Darren.”
Leodor nodded, “I understand, but we need to talk.”
Darren’s father took a step inside, ushering everyone into the house, “Please come in.”
Walking inside, Leodor followed Darren’s parents to the dining room. They all sat down, and Darren’s father asked, “What would you like to talk to us about, Leodor?”
“Darren’s education,” Leodor replied, drumming his fingers along the table’s edge. “Birel, may I get a drink of water?”
“Certainly,” Birel answered. “Salazar do you want anything?”
“I’m fine dear,” Salazar said, focusing on the old man. “Why do you want to talk about his education?”
A slip of a smile formed on Leodor’s face as his fingers continued their beat. “Have you heard of The Academy?”
“No,” Salazar answered.
Birel placed a cup in front of the old man, “I have.”
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“Not now, Rachel,” Daniel chastised, grabbing her wrist before she could touch the bottle of wine.
“But Daniel,” Rachel pleaded as she lifted her perfume atomizer. She turned to the bottle, and the finger hovered above the plunger.
He immediately placed a finger against her lips while he activated his comms with his other hand. Then he turned towards Rachel to hide his words. “Harlan, do you see the target?”
“Yeah, he’s heading down now,” Harlan responded.
Daniel jerked his head towards the door, “Cecil, are you and Franco ready?”
“Box one is secured,” Cecil said shortly.
“Box two is secured,” Franco answered. “Cecil, why are you so sour?”
“Don’t ask him that,” Daniel replied, pulling Rachel into an embrace to study the entrance from over her shoulder.
“I don’t like our employer,” Cecil complained. “Can’t I voice concerns?”
“We’re getting paid quite handsomely,” Laurie noted. “The wing is smooth, captain.”
“Excellent,” Daniel whispered into the comm. “And Cecil, all you do is complain about our employer.”
“I don’t,” Cecil objected without much feeling. “Are you sure about this plan, Daniel?”
“Yeah,” Daniel retorted with a muffled scoff. Daniel separated and turned Rachel around to study the wine. Cutting off his comms, he leaned over and murmured into her ear. “Did you mark your bottles?”
“Yes,” she said through a frown. She tilted her head and tried to smile as she pleaded, “I could switch one of the tags.”
Daniel shook his head, hugging her as he whispered, “I have eyes on Wayne Pashar. You remember what you have to do?”
“Yes,” Rachel retorted as she looked at her bottle.
Daniel pulled her closer to him and said, “Don’t try to switch any of the bottles.”
Rachel tore her eyes away from the fancy bottle pouting, “Daniel, we’re here already, and we’re…”
Daniel shook his head and put his finger back on her lips. Placing his forehead upon hers, he lowered his voice so only she could hear him, “I know you’re not too fond of what we do, Rachel. Please don’t advertise what we’re doing.”
“Why did you bring me?” She asked as she wrapped her hands together behind his neck.
A chuckle escaped Daniel, “Because of what you just did, Rachel.”
“My hands?”
“It’s impossible to fake some of these motions that you know so well,” Daniel replied as he stepped away from her and activated his comms. “Everyone ready?”
She winked as she tugged on his arm and yelled, “You owe me three bottles of wine.”
Daniel’s eyes furrowed as he fought to put a snarl on his face. “Why do I bother trying to take you anywhere? This is all you ever do.”
Rachel stalked towards the exit bringing her closer to Wayne as she spat over her shoulder, “I shouldn’t have expected anything else from you.”
Daniel stalked towards Rachel and Wayne as he muttered, “Now.”
After two steps, the ceiling began to crack, and large pits of concrete began plummeting to the ground. As the rubble fell, the patrons tried to run for the exits, but Daniel and Rachel clogged the main stairs. And Cecil and Franco secured the two alternate exits out of the cellar. Guests screamed as they ineffectually yanked on the sealed doors or tried to force themselves past Daniel and Rachel. Moments after Wayne grabbed Daniel and forcibly spun him around, the crumbling ceiling collapsed. Then a pair of metallic bodies collided with the floor with a sickening crack of concrete.
As the robots stood, screams filled the room, and the bigger robot lifted its weapon and fired into the ceiling. “Silence, nobody move!”
Every throat fell silent as the smaller robot leapt into motion. Within moments everyone was bound and dropped into a pile, and the larger one collected five bottles of wine from the racks. The robot slipped a case off its back and put the wine into the container tossing it over its shoulder. The robot grabbed Wayne, who shouted, “How dare you!”
The robot sent electricity into the struggling Wayne. The body went limp, and the robot tossed him over his shoulder and grabbed Daniel by his shirt. While the smaller yanked Rachel up by the scruff of her neck. Both robots went through the cellar’s main exit. The other robot tossed a grenade down the stairs before he dragged Rachel to the exterior wall and planted a small charge. It pulled Rachel back towards his compatriot, and the explosion blew a hole in the wall.
Security flooded into the hallway as another of the small grenades detonated. The resulting explosion propelled gas into the room. And as guards ran into the billowing fog, they collapsed to the ground. The two robots walked out of the hole and immediately rose into the sky as a small craft passed overhead. As the craft raced away from the planet, the dangling passengers were pulled inside just before the ship broke the atmosphere.
Daniel’s hand crept for his comms, and he switched it to a separate channel, “Laurie the pickup could have been smoother.”
“The bots didn’t complain, captain,” Laurie chirped.
“How soon till we rendezvous with the Scythe?” Daniel inquired as he walked over to Wayne’s unconscious form.
“Bout twelve hours,” Laurie answered.
“Good,” Daniel said as he woke the fallen Wayne. When the man’s eyes opened, Daniel apologized, “Sorry, Mr. Pashar but Mr. Glazov wants to have a candid conversation with you.
]]>“I did it last time, Leland,” Veit complained.
Leland scoffed as he looked at his diminutive partner, “It’s not my fault you can’t drive the truck.”
“That’s not fair,” Veit grumbled as he yanked his door open. “You’ll have to take a turn doing this work eventually.”
“No, I won’t,” Leland replied as he threw the lever to open the garbage truck for Veit. “Come grab me once you’ve emptied the trash.“
Veit dropped to the ground and slammed his door shut. Leland grinned at the comforting banter and leaned his head against the headrest. “You do know that you don’t have to continue working with that foul Dwarf.”
“Go away, Eva,” Leland snarled. “I’ve told you before I don’t want anything to do with you.”
She lifted one of Leland’s eyelids and stared into his now open eye. Leland studied the mysterious creature muttering, “At least this time you didn’t alter your appearance.”
Eva smiled and pushed him into the door, “You know the only way you can get rid of me, Leland Roxley.”
Groaning Leland sat up and turned towards his mysterious passenger and studied the pale skinned woman. Her silver hair cascaded around her face accentuating the pale skin of her face. After a brief glance at the slitted pupils of her yellow-green eyes; Leland tore his eyes from her. “I’ve told you that I won’t make a wish, and I know the rules that bind you.”
“They’re more like guidelines,” Eva replied, studying Leland.
“Not going to happen,” Leland replied as he tried to get comfortable.
“I could give you eternal youth,” Eva whispered into his ear with a sultry voice.
At the words, an intense sensation of pleasure ran through Leland. He forced the feeling from his mind with great effort and with a breaking voice whispered, “No.”
At Leland’s objection, rich laughter filled the cab, and Eva said, “I know that’s not true.”
“Not interested,” Leland muttered with a steadier voice.
Eva leaned closer to his ear and whispered, “Not true, Leland Roxley.” She reached out and caressed his chin with the back of her hand. “All you have to do is wish.”
“Not interested,” Leland replied with even more conviction.
“I know that’s not true,” Eva said. She leaned in and kissed his temple, “But I won’t pursue that wish at the moment.” She ran a hand through his hair and gave him another kiss, “How about the power of a mage? I know you’ve always wanted that.”
Leland swallowed and stuttered, “No… Not interested.”
“I could give you the power to take your rightful place in your family,” Eva said as she grabbed one of his hands.
“No,” Leland replied, trying to pull his hand out of her grasp.
“Power like this,” She whispered as she coursed power into his hand. “Can you feel it?”
“Not interested,” Leland said as she tried to entwine herself with his body. He shoved his hand into her, letting the crackling energy into her snarling, “You’ve been trying this ever since my family realized that I wasn’t dead.”
“They want what’s best for you,” Eva replied.
“No, they want to drag me into something I don’t want anything to do with.” Leland pushed her lithe frame off him and into the door. “I don’t want a single wish.”
“Not even for a succulent pork chop?” Eva asked as she made a plate with a tantalizingly seared and golden pork chop appear.
“No,” Leland replied as he tried to keep drool from falling out of his mouth.
Eva looked over her shoulder with a sultry expression, “No one has ever refused me.”
A hand slapped his door, and Veit bellowed, “Alright, Leland, it’s time for you to get out of the truck and help out.”
Leland opened the armrest and withdrew his mask. Slipping it over his mouth, he said, “I have work to do, Eva. Go away.”
When Leland opened his door, he heard a whisper, “You will make your wishes.”
Hoping down Leland followed Veit to the back of the garbage truck and grabbed the hose. Looking into the now empty cavity, Leland reeled back, “What was in there today?”
“You have no business complaining,” Veit muttered as he helped Leland get the hose into position. “You didn’t have to deal with when it was full.”
“True enough,” Leland muttered as he activated the hose. Cleansing liquid coated the inside of the garbage truck. He turned the hose off and returned it, he returned to the cab and pulled the lever to close the back of the truck.
Looking back to Veit, he said, “ I’ll see you in the locker room.”
“Later, Leland,” Veit said as he stalked off to the locker room to get cleaned.
When the door closed, Eva asked, “Why do you torture yourself?”
“I don’t,” Leland quipped. “And I don’t want anything to do with my family, and I won’t sell my integrity.”
“You don’t have to return to your family,” Eva said as Leland parked the truck into its spot. “You could take what you want from me, and you could fight them off when they inevitably come for you.”
Leland opened his door and stared at Eva, “I won’t make a wish with a genie, Eva. Don’t forget, I know your guidelines.”
Eva glared at Leland, “What does that mean?”
“That I’m not going to collapse when you’re about to vanish,” Leland said.
“There’s only one way to be free of me!” Eva shouted.
“Not true,” Leland said as he slammed his door. As Eva followed him, Leland stopped, “You can only stay here if I make a wish. But since I haven’t,” Leland glanced at his watch, then glared into her eyes and waved at Eva’s vanishing form. “Your time is up.”
]]>Rylan groaned and replied, “Yes, I dropped the buoy before we lost sight of the ship. When I dropped it, I made sure we could communicate, and they instructed us to stay the course.”
“Not what I asked,” the same voice called back.
Rylan ignored the comment and returned to his scan of the planet. Laria was just as dead as the other two worlds, and that stole the resolve from most everyone in the shuttle. Looking at the displays, Rylan called out to the shuttle, “Get all geared up we’re about thirty minutes from atmo. Then someone needs to get up here to let me do the same.”
Instead of a chorus of replies, the drawn and dour team started to dawn their hazmat suits. Rylan ignored the sparse muttering echoing from behind him and began to go through scans. Whatever devastated Laria was much, much worse than any of their previous stops. The open portals must have filtered out the most destructive aspect of the radiation because aside from the lack of life, the world appeared to have been wrecked by several large bombs.
Typically he could have guided the shuttle right to Laria’s platforms, but that was before he found the detonated carcass of the planet. Rylan shook his head and tapped at the console in time with its beeping. A chirp in his ear pulled Rylan’s attention from the scanner. He tapped the headset, and the line flared as the captain spoke, “Are those scans accurate?”
“Yes,” Rylan said as he closed his eyes.
“What happened?” The captain asked with a voice that threatened to fade out.
“That’s the point of our job,” Rylan said as he straightened his shoulders. “Isn’t that right Captain?”
The captain snickered, “True, but the other worlds didn’t suffer that level of destruction.”
Rylan swallowed the small lump in his throat as he looked down at the consoles. “The only thing I can think of is that the platforms were able to shield the other planets from the most dangerous aspects of the cataclysm.”
“We haven’t seen the scans for the radiation, what do they look like?” The captain asked.
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The lithe Olyver opened the door to the triumvirate’s office walking through it. He silently observed Caitlin and Quinn, with a smirk he allowed the heavy door to slam shut. The thud shattered the silent room, making the two triumvirs jumping in their seats. They looked up at the dirty blond man as he strode to his desk.
“Good morning Olyver,” Caitlin murmured as the man took his seat at the desk of the free desk.
Olyver gave Caitlin a slight dip of his head, “Good morning, Caitlin. I hope you two are doing well.”
“What do you want?” Quinn asked as he shoved papers aside.
“To bring the two of you to task,” Olyver quipped.
Caitlin slammed her hands upon her desk as she shot to her feet. “We…”
A whistle echoed through the office as Quinn stared at Caitlin. She stopped talking as she returned to her seat. Quinn’s gaze drifted to to Olyver. “The triumvirate agreed that the conversations you’re talking about are best served by open discussion.”
“Of course,” Olyver agreed as he folded his hands upon his desk.
“And we looked for the first time such an open discussion could be held,” Quinn said as if he were speaking to a young child.
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Despite searching the entire city, Sylvia finds nothing aside from the ever-present resentment of Kameron. Yet the stubborn king remains adamant about having his celebration. And Sylvia still sees it as a foolish celebration, only now she sees the time for preparation over. All Sylvia can do now is shift her focus from information gathering to prevention.
She collects her equipment form Gregor, and then she seeks a way to protect her employer from himself. Will she be able to safeguard Kameron from the course he chose? Or has her fear only been exaggerated by the countless whispers of hatred?
]]>With burning, hatred, Tarian popped up and fired upon the advancing horde. After getting a couple of shots off, he spun back under the meager protection the wall presented him. After a couple of moments, he turned toward a hole in the wall, and he could see the undulating mass below. Tarian brought his weapon to bear upon the swirling mass of body and sinew. As he studied the things through the scope, he could make out individual creatures.
With methodical breaths, Tarian stared down at the things through his scope and with precision movements fired his rifle. Each lance of light took one of the swirling bodies in the chest, but before the corpse could fall from view more jumped in to fill the momentary void. As Tarian focused on taking another shot, he was torn from his perch. Though as Tarian’s body twitched to keep the enemy in his sight, he heard someone shout, “Tarian!”
The use of his name hit Tarian like a blow from a massive hammer. His beleaguered eyes looked at the source of the shout, and he saw Lloyd and Sherry. He crouched lower and asked them, “What is it?”
“We need to fire the missile,” Lloyd said as he ducked further from view.
Sherry stared at Lloyd, but she addressed Tarian. “No, we cannot use the last missile yet. We need to save it.”
“And what exactly do you want to save it for, Sherry?” Lloyd quipped as he tightened his grip on the debris from the crumbling wall. With narrowed eyes, he went on anger building with every word. “In case you haven’t noticed those things have massed right in front of us and show no signs of stopping any time soon.”
“We have to wait, Tarian,” Sherry pleaded as she ducked under an arrow.
Tarian shook his head and addressed Sherry, “No, Lloyd is correct. Their mass has centered itself. This is our chance to eradicate most of what’s out there.”
“What if you’re wrong?” Sherry asked as she tried to vanish from sight.
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Someone tapped on Nathaniel’s shoulder, and the man’s head turned around and saw his friend, Marcus, standing behind him. Marcus stepped closer to his friend and pointed at the raft coming towards the shore. He squeezed his friend’s shoulder as he said, “That should be the last of the supplies.”
“Which way are they heading?” Nathaniel asked as he pointed towards the largest group fleeing from the shore.
Marcus shoved his hands into his pockets, “Most of the people still on the ship are coming here, Nathaniel.”
Nathaniel turned towards Marcus, and pointedly asked, “How many chose to strike out on their own?”
Marcus shifted his eyes away from his friend. “A quarter of those who survived the crash,” Marcus reported as he stared out into the ocean.
“What happened Marcus?” Nathaniel asked as he placed his hands upon his hips.
Marcus bent down and ran his fingers through the sand, and they collided with something hard. He pulled the object out and found a shell. He stared into the shell as he thought for about a minute. Then he threw the shell as far out into the ocean as he could. “We don’t know, Nathaniel.”
Nathaniel shook his head as he closed his eyes. “How can we not be sure, Marcus?”
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“Where is he?” Caitlin asked as she glared at the empty seat as she tapped at her desk.
Looking up from his papers, Quinn sighed. Glancing over to his friend, he muttered a response. “Malark knows how much his tardiness annoys you.”
“Excuse me?” Caitlin asked as she leveled an icy glare at the other triumvir.
“Why do you think he’s constantly late?” Quinn asked with a lopsided grin.
“Is it too much to ask for a little decorum from him?”
“No, but at the same time if you just left it alone, he would stop wasting our time.”
Caitlin stood up and walked over to Quinn and was about to chastise when the door to the room opened. With a glance over her shoulder, Caitlin spotted the heavy-set individual waddling into the room.
With a huff, Caitlin stalked back to her desk as the new arrival slowly approached his own and spoke with a thready voice. “I do apologize for being late, a meeting with several concerned citizens occupied me.”
Lifting a pen, Caitlin shook her head and asked. “Malark, it’s still far too early to discuss the eventual workings of our new federation.”
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As she traveled the firmer ground, Amelia raised her hand to let the raindrops fall upon her palm. As each droplet collided with her palm, her skin rippled absorbing the drop like a stone thrown upon a clear lake. Each strike upon her skin drew excitement and joy into Amelia’s feature. Water, specifically rain, rejuvenated the grim woman stalking across the field. As the ripples spread across her body, Amelia shoved the hood back from her face and looked up into the heart of the downpour. Standing there Amelia let the rain renew her body, filling her slender body with the power of the storm.
“Hey, there,” a male voice cried out over the pleasant thumping of raindrops.
Cracking an eye, open Amelia rolled her head, searching for the disturbance. When she found nothing in front of her, she slowly turned around and glared at a pack of four leering men. “Go, away,” she ordered as she began stalking away from the disturbance.
One of the fools whistled at her as another spoke with harsh words. “You’re the one, trespassing.”
“I think you need to make up for that,” one of the four said.
Without turning, Amelia clenched her fists and ground her teeth. Letting her eyes soak up the men she murmured, “Morons.”
Extending her senses outward, Amelia sensed their approach. “It’s your last chance. Walk away.”
The defacto leader of these group sneered as his friend’s laughed.
“Very well,” Amelia retorted as she spun to face them. “You had your chance!” She threw her arms out into the storm as if trying to block their path. Snickering, the men charged her. And as reached out to grab the woman, their fingers passed right through her body.
The lead goon cursed as he tried to tackle Amelia, but he sailed through her body, colliding with the ground. Amelia ignored the others and leaned down next to the leader and whispered. “I tried to warn you.” She placed her watery hand over his face, and the man began thrashing against her stoic arm. “I warned you twice to leave me alone.” Looking up from the goon, Amelia offered a sorrowful smile. “I pleaded with you to leave.”
Suddenly two of the thugs tried to flee, but they were lifted from the ground by their throats. Their limbs spasmodically flailing as water surrounded their mouths and noses. Standing Amelia turned from the first attacker and stalked towards the remaining goon. “But you all had to throw your weight around. You had to try and terrorize someone who felt like ignoring your pathetic lives.”
The remaining man watched frozen as his friend’s stopped twitching. The knife he’d used to pick at his nails fell to the ground like an anvil plummeting off a cliff. A moment later, the man’s knees raced to beat the knife’s journey to the muddy ground. Planting his forehead into the ground, the man wailed, “Don’t hurt me?”
“I thought you and your friends wanted to collect from a trespasser?” Amelia growled her mouth a scant inch away from the cowering man’s ear.
“Please, don’t kill me!”
A pair of loud thuds and cracks trumpeted cries of agony and a gasp of relief. The kneeling thug risked a glance back to his compatriots but found Amelia’s cold and swirling blue eyes instead. The man tried to backpedal through the sluicing mud but slipped to the muddy earth. When the impact of the ground never came, he opened his eyes and found himself floating in the air. Thrashing his head, he caught sight of watery threads stretching from Amelia’s hands to his body. She stood up and kept the panicked eyes next to hers and spoke with absolute certainty. “People used to know, never to cross a Storm Warden.”
“A… a… Sto… Storm…” The goon stuttered as he absorbed the destruction done to his compatriots.
Clutching his shattered legs, one of the men on the ground, cried out, “You… can’t… exist!”
“Ahhhhh but I do. And I’m a full Strom Warden,” Amelia said as she glanced over her shoulder. Returning her attention to the man hanging before her, Amelia spoke with disdain. “Those three are starting to grate on me, what about you?”
“We…”
“Didn’t know,” Amelia spat. Pulling the man closer to her, she quietly warned him. “You should be respectful to people you don’t know; you never know what you’ll run into.”
Amelia dropped the man to the ground and returned to her journey. Before she could walk away, the first man croaked, “Who are you?”
Amelia stopped at the question and turned her head to stare at the frightened man, “Excuse me?”
Flinching at the screams of pain from his companions, the man climbed to his feet and asked, “W… Wh… Who are you?”
Amelia threw her head back and started to cackle. As her laughter died down, she deliberately turned and lifted her arms palms raised to the sky and cried. “I am Amelia Rein.” The woman let her toothy smile linger as lightning struck the ground behind her. “Last of the Storm Wardens.”
“No…” the man cried out as he collapsed upon the ground.
With another bout of laughter echoing in the field, Amelia vanished, leaving her attackers broken in the storm.
]]>As he finished tying his shoes, Cederic sat down next to him. “How are you holding up Rylan?”
Rylan sighed as he wet his cracking lips with his tongue. “I’m doing pretty well.“
“Hitting you hard?”
“What?”
“Laria, it was your home.”
Rylan nodded as he turned to his locker to grab the watch resting on the upper shelf. “It’s hard seeing a graveyard when I looked at the scans.”
“Do you want to switch teams?”
Rylan shook his head, “No, I need to see this through to the end.” Cederic nodded and began to walk away, but Rylan rested his head against his locker and asked. “Why did you offer?”
Cederic’s cheeks flushed as he shuffled his feet. “I’m sorry, Rylan. I didn’t know.”
“No one did, Cederic.” Rylan said as he zipped up his jacket. “But that didn’t stop you from leading the rest of the crew to torment me as the reason the platform stopped working. Despite everything that happened I don’t want your pity.”
Swallowing a lump in his throat, Cederic nodded his head as he stepped towards Rylan. “I can’t change what I’ve done. But I want to say that it’ll be different going forward.”
“Thank you,” Rylan said as he walked out of the locker room towards the shuttle bay. When he entered, he saw his crew ready and waiting for him. “Is everything packed?”
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He spun around and barked an order, “I want the five best marksmen we have.”
The soldier nodded and ran to find the marksmen. Sherry stepped towards Tarian placing a hand on the man’s shoulder. “What is it now?”
“They are massing for another charge.” Tarian replied as he brought the telescope up to his eye.
“Lloyd are you there?” Tarian asked as he watched the massive creature direct the milling monsters.
“No,” Sherry answered.
“Go get him, I need to talk with him,” Tarian ordered.
“Yes, sir,” Sherry chirped as she left to collect the quartermaster.
Tarian lowered the telescope and glanced at the defenders manning the wall. Each set of eyes declared the dejection each defender felt. Tarian knew that without assistance they wouldn’t be able to hold the wall. Tarian swallowed a lump and offered a silent prayer that Caleb and Keldon would be able to bring help. As he stared into the deadly mass of creatures someone tapped his shoulder. “You wanted to see me Tarian?”
Turning his head to look behind him Tarian weakly smiled at Lloyd. “How many missiles do we have left; I don’t think you ever gave me a firm number.”
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“I’m leading you to my home.”
“Why?”
“As I told you, Darren. I need to test your commitment.“
After a few minutes Leodor walked out of the alley and Darren swallowed as he followed the lanky man. He didn’t understand the man’s motivations and he wasn’t sure he really wanted to know. After another twenty minutes, they came to a small campus, and the man pulled the boy right next to him. “Hurry we need to get into my home, do not wander off into the rest of the campus. Is that clear?”
With a meek nod, Darren hustled to stay next to Leodor as they crossed the grassy center of the campus. Walking right up to a spartan home, Leodor deftly opened the door and escorted the young man into his home. Leodor walked through the open doorway opposite the entrance and returned carrying a simple black leather belt. “Replace your belt with this?”
“Why?”
“Because I can’t afford to walk with you forever.”
“What?”
“You have the ability to wield magic, Darren.” Leodor stated as he folded his arms over his chest and began tapping his foot as he waited for Darren to comply with his order. But as the child stood blankly with the belt in hand Leodor sighed and explained. “By national decree, anyone capable of wielding magic is required to be turned over to the government.”
“So why not turn me over?”
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As with any of Sanderson’s work, Skyward is a terrific read. Unlike the rest of his work, the protagonist takes a little while for me to get behind and root for. At the beginning of the story, she has a chip on her shoulder the size of Mount Everest. And she is ready to attack anyone that gets in her way. I usually enjoy a snarky character who strives to endure a tremendous challenge. But Spin struck me as too childish for the role she reached for.
Yet, once she began to settle down and grow, the pettiness of her character dwindled. And she began to flourish as a character. Another thing I love about Sanderson’s work is that his supporting casts are always as flushed out as his protagonists. Skyward is no exception. From her childhood friend Rig to the eventual flight leader she affectionately nicknamed Jerkface, each has a rich backstory. And Sanderson dolls out those stories keeping them just out of focus but tantalizing. The story would never have reached its height without their assistance.
With sports, there are always a handful of moments that prove to be critical to the outcome of the game. It’s incredible how often you can look to sports and see an allegory of life. Throughout a person’s life, there will be a handful of moments that prove to be crucial in shaping that life. Spin’s life is no exception. And at each of those moments her dedication, perseverance and an enormous amount of luck prove critical to give her exactly what she needs. Not only that but she gets it at the crucial time, right up to the climax of the novel.
I will say that I rarely see the ending coming with the vast majority of Sanderson’s works. Though with that said, Skyward’s ultimate destination did not blindside me this time. There was a single twist that while not perfectly formed in my mind before its revelation made sense given the tone of the rest of the novel. I want Sanderson to focus on his cosmere works, to complete that masterpiece. That universe is so diverse that each story is marvelous. But Skyward is not a second-rate work. It was a fantastic story once I managed to get past Spin’s chippy pettiness.
And while I would rather see his next novel be a cosmere one. I will pick up Skyward’s sequel, Starsight when it comes out in October later this year.
]]>Harrison tries to enjoy the little bit of freedom that his latest success brought him. And as he is reading a book his friend Lucas came for a visit. Lucas forces Harrison to see him and the two begin to play a game while they talk. As their game starts to showcase the eventual winner, Harrison insists that Lucas reveal why he came by. Lucas tells him that his betrothed has a sister that and she would be a good match for him.
Harrison agrees and sends a letter to his father, explaining why he won’t return as scheduled. While Harrison tries to relax, before the upcoming gala, his father arrives to interrogate him. After a brief discussion, he agrees that this woman would be an excellent match for Harrison. Will Harrison manage to serve his familial duty? Or will his father return Harrison to the never-ending visits to other nobles?
]]>Over the past few months as I waited for the movie’s premiere. I sought and devoured every fan theory around the internet. And with each teaser and theory, I tried to form a picture of what Endgame might be. When I’m invested in a story, there are times when I cannot stop trying to find the answers early. Despite all the rumors on the web, the events that unfolded on the screen blindsided me every step of the way. And all the credit belongs to Marvel Studios. The secrecy that surrounded this movie was out of this world. After watching the movie, I wanted to applaud them for using every trick they could to keep the ending from escaping.
Under normal circumstances, when anything receives as much hype as Endgame, it falls flat on its face. But somehow instead of collapsing under that pressure. Endgame shouldered the hype and came out on the other side having managed to exceed all the hyped expectations.
I bought my tickets almost two weeks in advance, and I can say that I was lucky to get those tickets. But when my daughter and I went to the theater on the 27th, my excitation was bubbling over. Since we wanted to ensure that we managed to get good seats, we arrived a good hour early. Yet we still walked into a crowded theater. We did locate a pair of seats in the middle of the theater, and so we claimed them, and we sat down to wait forty-five minutes before the previews ran. Then we waited patiently as the previews ran their course. And finally, the movie so many people have waited for started to unfold.
The first thing I want to say about the movie is its runtime. Yes, Avengers: Endgame is three hours long. But the film managed to capture my attention from the first scene to the end of the credits. And at no point did I ever feel the need to glance down at my watch to find out how long I’d been in the theater. And unfortunately, I’ve been to shorter films where my watch was the most captivating thing on display. But during Endgame there wasn’t a single scene where the length of the movie bore down on me. The directors managed to weave each of the surviving character’s stories into the movie’s central arc masterfully. Instead of detracting from the film each character’s personal arc served to amplify the film’s resonance. Drawing me further into Endgame’s compelling tale.
To paraphrase Tony Stark’s words every journey has its ending. This movie was quite simply the best possible conclusion to the Infinity Saga Marvel could have produced. This peak was a long time coming, and worthy of the wait. And now that we’re standing at the summit we can shift our eyes away from the journey towards the future. As I stare off into that unknown, I wonder what the next saga will be and if Marvel will ever achieve this kind of resonance again. But whether they do or not; I’m going to enjoy this journey for years to come, and I will always remember the experience.
]]>But the officer sneered at Kyl as he muttered, “Good afternoon Rickman.” Shaking his head, Kyle tried to walk to his clients, but the officer grabbed him and whispered. “I didn’t want you here, but the family is insisting. You better behave.“
“Officer, we all want the same thing. Damien returned to his family safe and sound. Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to do my job.”
“Be careful.”
With another nod, Kyle walked over to the parents and asked, “Is it normal for Damien to go off with Robyn?”
Mitchell closed his eyes while Jenifer sobbed into her hands. “Yes, we trusted Robyn.”
Kyle pulled his notepad and jotted something down as he examined the people in the creamery. “Was this Damien’s favorite place to get ice cream?”
Robyn turned around and tried to say something but Mitchell shot her a withering glare. “From what, she’s told us yes, they came her quite a bit.”
Kyle put a hand out to Robyn, “Can you tell me what happened?”
“Does it matter!?” Jennifer screamed as she tried lashed out at Robyn. But Mitchell managed to catch his wife preventing her hand from connecting with Robyn’s face.
Kyle rested his hand back on Jenifer’s shoulder, “Please I need to talk with everyone if I’m going to figure this out.”
“I’m sorry,” Mitchell muttered as he led his wife away from the counter.
“Please continue,” Kyle prompted the shaken nanny.
“We came in and placed our order then a redhead with a gun ran into the store and shot up the ceiling.”
“Who else was here?” Kyle asked as he flipped to the next page of his pad.
“One employee and one customer,” Robyn replied.
“Can you point them out?”
Robyn pointed at the other end of the store, “Sheila is the employee, while Morris is another regular.”
“Was there anything else I should know?”
“Damien ripped out some of the abductor’s beard.”
“Do the police have it all?”
“I’m not sure.”
“Where did the struggle take place?”
“At the far side of the counter,” Robyn answered as she lowered her head.
Kyle walked over to the spot and searched for anything that might help him. When he found a red hair, he claimed it before he strolled over to Shelia and Morris. “What can you tell me about the kidnapper?”
“He was average height,” Morris replied as he shoved his hands into his pockets.
“Red beard to go with his hair?” Kyle asked as he rolled the strand in his fingers.
“Yeah,” Sheila answered as she stretched out the word.
“What color were his eyes?”
“Brown,” Morris said as he leaned against the wall.
“Hazel,” Shelia countered.
Kyle got his pencil on the page and asked, “Are you sure?” The two nodded, and Kyle updated the page, “Did you two notice the boy ripping hair off the assailant’s beard?”
“Yeah,” Shelia muttered as she began staring off into the distance.
“I remember thinking that the man should have reacted more,” Morris added as he leaned against the wall.
Making further notations, Kyle looked at them both. “Thank you, you’ve been most helpful.” He turned his back on them before they could say anything else and walked towards the boy’s parents. “If I remember right. You two are expecting Darnell Calhoun and Lauren Goodwin to arrive any moment.”
“Yes,” Mitchell said as he held his wife. When he lifted his head, Mitchell pointed at the pair walking in. “In fact that’s them.”
Kyle watched as a slender green-eyed woman with blond hair and an average looking blue-eyed man with blond hair walked into the creamery. As they both walked towards the Horns, the man began rubbing at his blotchy chin. Kyle leaned in and whispered to Mitchell, “Does Darnell usually have a blotchy chin?”
Mitchell examined his friend’s chin and replied, “No, but what does that have to do with anything?”
Kyle ignored the question and intercepted the pair before they could reach the Horns. “Hello I’m sorry Darnell, but I need to speak with you outside for a moment.”
“I want to comfort my friends.”
“It’ll only take a second.”
Darnell looked over at Mitchell, who nodded. So the man sighed as Kyle led him out of the store. When they were away from prying ears, Kyle stopped and squeezed the man’s shoulder. “Why’d you do it?”
“Excuse me?”
“You shouldn’t rip off a fake beard, the result is a nice rash like you have.”
Darnell tried to push Kyle away as he retorted, “You need to be careful with slander.”
“Truth isn’t slander, Darnell,” Kyle replied as he tightened his grip. “Now tell me where the boy is.”
“You can’t make this kind of accusation because of a skin issue.”
“I’m not. You were in such a hurry to get rid of the beard you didn’t notice the strands still on your collar.”
“You’ll never be able to prove it.”
A gun cocked behind Darnell’s head, and his eyes went so wide they threatened to leap from his skull. “I don’t have to do that now that you’ve confessed in front of an officer. Isn’t that right Officer Grimes?”
“It absolutely is Mr. Rickman.” The officer said as he slid in front of the kidnapper. “Now where is Damien?”
Darnell, looked into the barrel as he bit his lip. But Graves’ patience wore out, and he shoved the barrel into the man’s forehead and snarled, “Where’s the boy?”
“My car.”
“Give me the keys,” Kyle ordered. The man handed them over, and Kyle located the car freeing Damien who ran for his parents and nanny.
]]>It is amazing how powerful an imagination really is when you stop and think about it. The ability to take something utilitarian and ordinary like a cardboard box and transform it into something extraordinary is nothing short of a miracle. It’s also the ability that lets us submerge ourselves into a book. It’s what allows us to transform the words into an image unfolding before our very eyes. Unfortunately, I think it’s an undervalued part of our adult lives. Life has a way of eroding an imagination all on its own, from work to stress and everything in-between.
And while I would prefer to say that those have never tampered my imagination, that would be a lie. My own imagination has taken abuse from many sources, but I’ve always run back into it and encouraged it to grow. I will admit to being, but I believe that imagination is as essential to a healthy life as a clean bill of health is. For the sole reason that our imagination is what allows us to escape the daily grind of our adult lives.
There are plenty of days when the stress of my life begins to wear me down. But that is when I unleash my imagination, and as it soars, I find that my anxieties wanes. The outlet my imagination uses isn’t always one of the stories I write. Sometimes it’s something as simple as cracking open a good book and following an incredible journey. And there are of course days when I curl up and watch a good movie or television show. They do provide most of the heavy lifting, but I find they also can help jumpstart new ideas in my mind.
While I have done a lot to keep a healthy and active imagination, I’m sad to see that spark of creativity dim in my little girl. To know that life has begun to chip away at her once fertile imagination brings a tear to my eye. So I have done what I can to encourage her to help her imagination grow. But I have just found a new way to help spark that wonder. There are sites some sites that provide daily photos one such is NASA’s Astronomy Picture of the Day, and another is National Geographic. Go look at those pictures and let what you see percolate an idea or two in your mind. It’s a fun and useful exercise. Though there is also something to be said to merely place yourself into your favorite place and letting that sight wash away your troubles.
No matter how you let your imagination free. You might be surprised how much happier and healthier you are, than if you were to restrain it. So go out and flex the muscles of your imagination and feel the stress of your life melt away.
]]>As the doors slid apart, Glen noticed a man and a woman riding in the car. He waited for a moment, but neither of them moved to get out of the car, so he walked in. With a glance at the floor buttons, Glen saw that the only floor selected was the ground floor. With a smile, he leaned against the back of the car and joined the other riders in a silent trip towards the lobby.
Two floors later the car stopped, and its doors opened. Glen looked towards the opening and saw a man glide into the car flashing everyone a smile. Glen returned the smile, but the man spun around. Glen shrugged his shoulders and waited for the cab to resume its march towards the lobby. As the car began to descend the new stranger pulled something out of his jacket and flicked his wrist. The little tube in his hand extended and the man hit the visible video camera, breaking it.
After the stranger neutralized the camera, he spun towards the other man and snarled, “Kent I want the key!”
The man backed as far into the corner as he could as he wrapped his arms around the suitcase as if it was a diamond. “You can’t have it, Jon, please don’t do this?”
But Jon ignored Kent’s plea and struck his arm with the baton. When the rod hit Kent, both he and the woman screamed. Jon turned towards the woman and Glen, and with rage burning in his eyes he growled. “If either of you wants to walk away from this mind your own business.” When he returned his attention to Kent, Jon noticed the briefcase was dangling from Kent’s arm. He grabbed Kent’s throat and lifted him up as he squeezed. “You had to make this difficult, didn’t you Kent!”
As Kent struggled for breath, he sputtered a few words. “Jon… you’re… only…”
But Jon squeezed tighter silencing the older man. “If I wanted to listen to you prattle on about something, I’d still be working with you Kent.”
As Kent’s fingers tried to pry the fingers off his neck, Glen made a decision. He couldn’t stand there and watch Jon choke Kent. So, he flung himself at Jon and threw a punch at Jon’s side. The force from the blow caused Jon’s grip on Kent’s throat to loosen. And Kent took full advantage of that distraction. He drew in a sharp breath as he struggled to free himself from Jon’s vice-like grip. Jon turned his head towards Glen, but before he could do anything, Glen lashed out at Jon’s side again. The blow forced Jon to take another step back and release Kent. “I warned you to stay out of this. It looks like the do-gooder cost everyone everything.”
Jon swung his baton at Glen’s skull, but Glen backed away avoiding the attack. But he stumbled and tripped. Jon adjusted his stance and struck at Glen again. This time Glen blocked the blow with his arm. When the baton crashed into Glen’s arm, the sickening crack of bone rang out a second before Glen’s howls of pain. Jon looked at the woman who was digging through her purse and Kent. The man was trying to get his phone, so Jon punched Kent in the side of his neck. Kent collapsed to the ground and abandoned his fight with the phone.
Jon turned his attention to the woman who was muttering, “It’s in her.”
Jon took his time as he placed his free hand against the wall next to her head and whispered into her ear. “I’m sorry about this.”
The woman’s hand clenched as she looked up into his eyes as she screamed, “I’m not.”
Jon opened his mouth to laugh, and she sprayed something all over his face and into his opened mouth. As the spray touched him, a howl of pain erupted from Jon. And within moments the attacker dropped to the ground as he writhed in pain crying out for relief. A moment later the elevator dinged as it stopped. The doors slid open, and one of the waiting security guards put his foot against the door. Stepping into the car the security guard took in the scene. “Mam are you all right?”
The woman pointed at the writhing man and answered. “That lunatic attacked us.”
“We saw him smash the cameras.”
She pointed at Glen and continued, “He has a broken arm.”
The guard pulled a radio to his mouth and passed on that information. As Jon was being escorted out of the elevator, the woman heard the sirens of emergency services. She knelt next to Glen. “That was very brave of you.”
Glen focused on her face as he spoke through the searing pain. “Doesn’t mean it was the smartest move. At least according to my broken arm.”
“Thank you for helping Kent,” she said after kissing Glen on the forehead. “It allowed me to find my mace.”
Glen forced a laugh through searing bursts of pain. “Glad you had that.”
“Of course, I did, after all, Jon didn’t realize that I was escorting the key, not Kent.”
Glen looked up at the woman, and as first responders continued their work he asked, “Who are you?”
With a warm smile, she squeezed Glen’s shoulder. “My name is Monica Harrell.” Releasing his shoulder, she walked out of the building and vanished.
]]>“Why are you here?” Asked one of the creatures holding the bows.
Keldon tried to take a step to face where the voice came from. And as his leg twitched an arrow embedded itself into the ground next to his leg. Keldon reached down and felt the torn fabric as he heard another voice echo in the dark forest. “You will not be warned again, do not move at all.“
Keldon wished that Tarian sent him off to contact the Dwarves. As Keldon studied the seven glinting arrows that he could see, he almost wished he was still on the walls staring down at the bestial horde. “I’m not an enemy,” Keldon cried out into the woods. “I came looking for an ally to help defend my people. A great horde of creatures is massing and threatens to overwhelm my friends. Please help us!”
The closest arrow in front of Keldon vanished from view. But Keldon could swear that he heard the bow being drawn. “You were told that we wanted nothing to do with your enemies.”
Keldon closed his eyes, “Yes, you told us that.”
“Then why did you forfeit your life by returning to our territory?”
Keldon took a deep breath through his nose, holding his breath for a moment. As he held that breath he thought about the question. Seconds later Keldon exhaled and opened his eyes to stare at the gleaming points in front of him. “With the force massed to attack our home, if we don’t get the help we need, we’ll die. So I was sent to try and find a potential friend. We hoped you would be willing to help us stave off annihilation. But I guess we were wrong.”
“So you risked your life because you were dead either way?” Asked a new voice.
Keldon shook his head, as he bellowed. “No, I risked my life on the chance that I might be able to survive this onslaught.”
“You said, you feared that your people are going to die.” Asked another elf.
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“Oh, no,” Darren muttered as he lifted his eyes to Dolmen’s.
“Oh, yes,” the bully said as a mean grin appeared.
Darren glanced over his shoulder and saw Dolmen’s cronies walking into view. “Please let me go home, Dolmen.”
“You were trying to escape without paying your taxes.” Dolmen answered as he tapped his open palm, “Mistakes like that bring punishment.”
Darren stepped away from the bully, but he could feel the presence of Dolmen’s toadies. He looked past the bully towards the exit of the alley and decided to risk it. He took a step to his right drawing Dolmen that way. Then Darren bolted towards the opening to his left. Unfortunately, the bully moved faster, grabbing Darren by the collar. The boy tried to squirm out of Dolmen’s grasp, but it was too strong. Within moments Darren started moving backward as Dolmen muttered with glee. “You’re going to regret that, Darren.”
Ignoring the taunt Darren continued to squirm, but Dolmen was too strong. Within moments, Darren saw the bully’s face out of the corner of his eye. Then the bully hurled Darren to the ground. Upon impact, Darren curled up protecting himself from the oncoming onslaught. When nothing happened Darren shifted his head, and searched for the reason. But all he saw was Dolmen’s fist an inch from his face. Before he could return to safety, Darren felt the impact and heard himself screaming out in pain.
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But as with every repeated journey, no two trips are the same. For this book, I found a new editor through Thumbtack, and I will always be thankful that I found him. I used his services with my Harrison & Sylvia series that I am currently publishing and found his insights fantastic. So I arranged to have him work on the novel, and I have already gotten it back. As with his work on my short stories, his feedback has been as constructive as it is terrific.
I have not begun the process of incorporating those insights just yet. I’m still in the middle of a couple of other projects. But once I wrap those up, I will start working through the edited manuscript. Presently I am planning on starting early in May. And while I plan on taking all the time I need to craft the best book I can, I’m confident that I’ll be able to publish it on August 31st this year.
]]>Responding to Kameron’s summons, an aggravated Sylvia goes to see her employer. Upon her arrival, a jovial Kameron informs her that he will be hosting a grand gala for the people of his kingdom. Sylvia instantly argues that given his current standing Kameron should reconsider this extravagant display of wealth. He dismisses her concerns demanding that she does what she is paid to do. Begrudgingly she consents to keep him alive despite his foolishness.
Knowing that she has a lot to prepare and far too little time to do it, Sylvia instantly begins chasing down whispers. She also realizes just how ill-equipped she is to handle her employer’s recent challenge, so she decides to rectify that issue. Accordingly, one of her stops is a friend, who can help her but that help always comes at a price.
]]>Bouncing his head side to side, Rylan glanced at the doctor hiding behind a console. “Well doc, can you finish up my exam before you get slammed with the last minute rush.“
The steely-eyed doctor shifted his eyes, “No, I’m not going to hurry your exam. Believe me, no one will bump your results. Now be quiet.”
Rylan shook his head as his fingers continued tapping away. He did not like waiting for his official diagnosis. As he stretched his neck as he asked, “What was wrong with the results from a few days ago?”
“Be quiet,” the doctor ordered with an abrasive voice. When Rylan sighed, the doctor retorted, “They were only good for last week, now be quiet.”
Rylan shook his head, at the lunacy of the repeated scans. It was evident that whatever happened on Lataria, occurred in a moment. The lack of communication and the state of the world told him that. If the radiation was still lethal, then it should have done its damage already.
The doctor coughed, bringing Rylan out of his revelry, as he stepped away from the table and spoke at Rylan. “Well your scans look clear, there are no traces of that radiation in your system.”
“Has anyone had the radiation show up in their system?” Rylan asked as he leaped from the bed.
The doctor’s scowl told me that I shouldn’t have asked that question. But my puppy dog eyes only intensified the look and earned me a reproach. “You’re not the captain, and you do not need to know. Now get out so I can see the next patient.”
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A couple of months after championing the cry to settle on this world, Caitlin began to wonder if she made a mistake. The typical plans quickly failed with trying to place every settler on the planet, and that created an irate and argumentative people. Every time Caitlin attempted to advance the common goals of some group with their own agenda would block her progress. As a result, the lofty goals that should’ve unified the fledgling world seemed just as unattainable as the day they lost Laria. Looking around the chamber, Caitlin shook her head in awe of the number of people who somehow managed to force themselves into the room, each trying to argue their point. She recognized so many faces and knew them all to be hard workers, but something changed in them. As she slumped in her chair, her mind sought an answer, but she kept circling back to the fact everything changed, which sparked a fear that spread like wildfire throughout Aurora.
Digging deeply, Caitlin hoped that tonight would be more productive. As the clamor grew, she leaned over to Quinn, covering her microphone and asked, “Is it too late to change our minds?”
Flashing a satisfied grin at her, Quinn covered his microphone before answering, “Yes, we made a decision, and now we have to see it through.”
With a groan, Caitlin began tapping her microphone, and the raucous crowd slowly began to still. When silence settled upon the hall, she addressed the latest batch of concerns, “We’re wasting our time trying to debate reforms of the Federation. While I agree in principle that things need to change, it’s not relevant at the moment. We need to shelve the idea of colonizing other worlds and reforming the Federation. We need to focus on things that will allow us to build up our new home then we can focus on our return to the stars.”
“But before we get there we have to decide how the worlds will work together!” Someone shouted, drawing rapid consent.
“But that cannot be our first priority, not with a world to create.” Caitlin replied smoothly before she added, “For the moment we need to focus on things like developing our new home. Once we have established our world, then we have to alter the platforms to work independently of Laria. And remember the Federation is gone, there is no shield protecting us. As my esteemed colleague,” Caitlin paused to gesture at Quinn before she continued. “Has pointed out, we’ll need ships to help protect this fledgling coalition.” Caitlin paused for a moment to gather all her shattered confidence, “These are the issues we need to discuss, not plans of a future that is years from fruition.”
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As the day wore on Caleb rubbed at his eyes as he forced himself to keep putting one foot in front of the other. He needed to find the dwarves, he knew that without their aid the settlement couldn’t stand up to the massing threat. As Caleb stumbled into a tree, he shook his head and resigned himself to look for a place where that he could secure to get a few hours of sleep. Just as he altered his search, Caleb finally caught sight of tracks that didn’t belong to the natural wildlife. The discovery forced the exhaustion out of his mind and with a newfound vigor he started following the tracks. Unfortunately as Caleb followed the tracks his nerves began to fray as they rapidly began diminishing.
Silently he cursed at the situation, and he quickly doubled back so he could follow the largest set of tracks. When he found it, he resumed his search giving extra care to where Caleb stepped and what he rustled as his search appeared to bring him closer to his goal. Yet with each step, Caleb’s mind worked hard to figure out what he could say once he managed to locate the dwarves. During his last encounter, Caleb only met a handful of them, and their leader Fitik explicitly told him not to seek them out. Though they seemed like a stout people with a strong sense of pride. Caleb hoped that his assessment proved accurate and that the sheer mass of enemies threatening his home would inspire these stout warriors to their aid.
After following the main set of tracks for an hour, Caleb felt His exhaustion threatening to overtake him. He rubbed at his face, but with the end of his search so close he couldn’t sleep now, so he reached into his vest pulling out a small bottle and removed two capsules. As Caleb stared at the little red pills, he thought about putting them back, but the exhaustion loomed, so he forced the pills down his throat. Instantly he felt more alert just as if he woke from a good night’s sleep, of course, the capsules only simulated sleep, he would have to wait until the settlement was defended to sleep. Embracing the renewed alertness, Caleb continued his desperate search and quickly managed to catch sight of something in front of him.
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Except for the latest fact, sighing Kyle tapped his pencil on the new lead and hoped that his friend would be able to run the test quickly. He slipped his pencil into his shirt pocket as he put his notebook back into his pocket, then Kyle grabbed his phone, so to call the lab to see if there was an update, but before he could unlock it a call from his office came in. “Gregory, what do you want?”
“I’m sorry, but I thought you wanted immediate updates,” Gregory said with a hint of defensiveness thick in his voice.
“What, do you have, Gregory?”
“Well, there’s nothing to disprove your theory.”
Kyle sighed asking, “Which means there’s no evidence to help our client.”
“No, not when the victim identified our client as the attacker.” Kyle lowered his phone for a minute before to lose an impressive string of curses. When replaced the phone he heard Gregory say, “This was not a good job to take.”
“Remember two a few things, Gregory. First, we met when you were framed for murder. Second, the victim admits to being struck from behind and only got her view of our client as she regained consciousness.”
“I know Kyle.”
“And Third,” I said ignoring his affirmation. “I found a syringe that was buried where the assault took place.”
“You’re not exactly in the best part of the city, Kyle.”
“It’s also not a ghetto, but that’s why it’s off being tested.”
“Who’s delivering it?”
“Thomas.”
“He’ll ensure the custody of that, but he’s not cheap.”
“I’ll worry about that, you make your way to the lab and make sure they don’t screw it up.”
“Yes, sir,” Gregory said as he hung up.
Going back to his notebook Kyle re-read the statements, and the consensus was she walked from east to west which meant she passed that small tower almost hidden from view. When Kyle started to remove the trappings, he realized that it was an ATM. And that brought a smile to his face. He pulled out his phone and instantly called Dwayne.
Silence greeted Kyle when the call was answered, so he just spoke knowing his friend was there, “Dwayne I need something.”
“What?”
“I need some pictures of a particular ATM.”
“Good for you.”
“I’m serious.”
“Fine, who owns it?”
Kyle quickly found the bank and passed that along, “Can you get into it?”
“Probably but given your line of work, I’ll assume you want something a little more on the up and up than me hacking into it.”
“What can you do?”
“I know some of the cyber guys at all the major banks.”
“Really?”
“We’re a small community.”
“Okay, what’s that get me?”
“A copy of the pictures you need, what’s the date and time.”
Moments later Kyle was looking through images on his phone and was amazed at the detail, though he was a little skeptical as to how Dwayne managed to get them so quickly. But it didn’t matter, he found a photo of the victim and a note that the image would have been gone in another day. Kyle called a friend over at the police and asked him to come to the skywalk, about twenty minutes later two officers arrived.
The other he didn’t know first asked, “Why are you poking into my case?”
“Because my client’s innocent.”
“We have an id from the victim!” The officer insisted.
“I think these will clear my client,” Kyle said with a smile as he handed the officer the photo he’d printed, at a nearby convince store.
“Where’d you get this?” The officer asked.
“See that ATM?”
“You hacked an ATM?!” The officer asked as he reached for a pair of handcuffs.
“Absolutely not.”
“How’d you get it Kyle?” his friend asked.
“Look another day, and that image would’ve been gone, so can we skip the small talk. It clearly states that the victim walked past the ATM a good four hours before she was found by my client. Then there’s the second photo that shows a man behind here wielding a syringe.”
“A syringe?” My friend asked with enthusiasm.
“I found a syringe where the attack took place.”
“Where is it?” The other officer asked getting into my face.
“Taken to the lab that your department contracts out to.”
“How’d it get there?”
“Thomas,” Kyle answered as his phone rang, excusing himself, and his partner told him that the chemical residue in the syringe is something rare and unpronounceable, but it can render someone unconscious almost instantly. And after a prompt Gregory added, that somehow he’d been right.
“Excellent,” Kyle said as he hung up and addressed the officers, “Gentlemen I thought you should know that there was a rare drug in that syringe, capable of rendering someone unconscious. Also, my client’s brother, who is a chemist, and happens to be rather jealous of my client, has been threatening to disgrace my client in the eyes of their parents.”
The officer was furious, but he stalked away while Kyle’s friend replied, “As long as all of this checks out your client will be going home tonight, Kyle.”
“He will.”
]]>Going in I knew the film was going to take place in the mid-nineties and it would be Carol Danvers origin, and these stories can be a lot of fun, if not a little overdone. But thankfully Marvel Studios decided to alter the typical layout of an origin story. Unlike with Iron Man where we follow Tony Stark from his beginnings in the cave to his declaration, with Vers, aka Captain Marvel aka Carol Danvers, we see her as a full member of the Spaceforce preparing for battle. Despite only having six years of memory, she was certain of that short past and her journey forward. But as the movie unfolds, she finds herself on a path of rediscovery. It was a nice spin on a classic tale.
Another thing to note before we go too much further, despite the movie taking place about two decades before Iron Man, I have heard plenty of talk that the film would be a lead into Avengers: Endgame. And it performed that job just as well as Thor: Ragnarok did introducing Avengers Infinity War. Also, this story is not just about Carol Danvers’ origin, it also serves as an origin story for Nick Fury. Throughout the movie, we are introduced to a side of Fury that we have never seen, an individual who is far more trusting. During the film, we are treated to a character arc that takes this trusting man and sets him on the path to the cynical and clandestine individual we know and love. And their interaction is almost as central to the movie as her own past. It is funny watching Fury as he tries to arrest her after falling through the roof of a Blockbuster.
Now before anyone accuses me of thinking Fury stole the movie, I want to discuss the complaints I have heard about Brie Larson’s performance. I can’t remember where I heard that the performance was wooden, but I would like to address it real quick. At the beginning, we are treated to a sparring match between Vers and Jude Law’s Yon-Rogg, and during that fight, he flat out tells her that emotion is the enemy and she needs to suppress it. But throughout the movie, as Captain Marvel begins to regain her lost memories, her personality begins to shine through the Kree upbringing.
The movie’s pace and flow was well done, giving us the information we needed at the right time without disrupting the experience. The only nitpick I have is the use of Deus Ex Machina when Captain Marvel uses the Kree technology from in her suit to hijack phones so she can communicate with her team. Conversely when a member of that team needs to communicate with some Kree vessels no phone is required to make that call. Though, we did get a funny joke about long distance calls with Captain Marvel’s first. And speaking of nostalgia, the film manages to cram into the movie everywhere. Be it the trip inside Blockbuster Video or the loading screen for reading an audio file from CD, it brought me back to my youth and a smile to my face.
The comedy in the movie was subtle and well placed, but my favorite lines took place when Fury and Danvers were getting ready to fly a jet:
Nick Fury: You know how to fly this thing?
Captain Marvel: We’ll see…
Fury: That’s a yes or no question.
Also since it seemed that Goose, the cat, got so much in the promotional side of things, it is worth mentioning that he was an excellent addition to the film, and not just as the center to Fury’s adoration. In short, this movie felt like a movie that could have been shown in phase one, but I understand their decision to produce it now. After walking out not only did I enjoy the film but I was even more excited to see Endgame.
]]>Blinking at the bright light of the sun, Lucas dumbfoundedly asked, “What?”
The stranger leaned over Lucas and spoke clearly, “Run.”
“What?” Lucas asked as he tried to steady himself as he lay upon the ground.
The man shouldered his rifle, pulling out a handgun and fired at the ground next to Lucas, who was shocked to full awareness. “The next one won’t miss, Lucas. Now run, and make the chase marvelous.”
It took Lucas a few attempts, but he was eventually able to climb to his feet, where he made a few unsteady steps, but the man had begun counting. “One, two, three…”
Lucas’ face went slack as he realized that the man was deadly serious. He spun around with a great effort just not to fall as he plunged into the junkyard. Moments after entering he realized that it was a giant maze. In another few moments, Lucas ran himself into a dead end. He instinctively looked back and thankfully didn’t see his pursuer. Staring at the wall, he knew what he had to do. Lucas flung himself to the top of the blocking wall and briefly searched his surroundings. And a smile jumped to his lips as he noticed a vast parking lot with a solitary car.
He continued through the maze, searching for the far wall, climbing over dead ends when he had to, and doing whatever he could to keep himself pointed in the right direction. When the sight of the last wall came into view, a bullet grazed his cheek. Without thinking, he grabbed a chunk from the surrounding wall. His hands flew across the still smooth surface of a hubcap. Ripping it free from the wall, he spun around instantly catching sight of his hunter and threw the piece towards his assailant. The hubcap’s flight was true, and the collision gave him time to make his escape.
So Lucas wasted none of the precious time he gained as he desperately climbed up the wall of junk and without looking down, he flung himself over the edge. The momentary elation that the escape brought was quick-lived as he fell a short distance landing hard upon a pile of junk. Yet with his momentum, he continued to roll down the veritable mountainside. When he finally came to a stop halfway down, Lucas ignored the flowing blood of his injuries as he rushed towards the car.
When he reached it, his hands yanked on the handle, but the door wouldn’t budge. Looking back from where he fled from he thought he saw something poking up from the ridge of junked things, so he ran to the opposite side of the car and hid. As he sat there the fear that had spurned him to flee was screaming that he needed to continue his flight. Yet he knew that as long as his hunter had the rifle, he was nothing more than a target.
As he tried to gather his wits, Lucas thought he heard a small sound a moment before he felt the car rock sharply from an impact. Without moving, Lucas looked around and saw that one of the tires had been blown out. His fear grew as another slight sound warned of another incoming bullet. And just like that, another tire blew out. And somehow despite the rising terror, Lucas kept his fear from forcing him into a run.
With two of the tires shot out, Lucas knew that the car wouldn’t be going anywhere, but he stayed right where he was. As three more shots rang out and struck the car’s engine. Lucas waited for another shot to ring out, but after a dozen deep breaths, there was nothing. He risked a glimpse over the hood and noticed a man rapidly charging down the hill with what looked like a rifle slung across his back. Lucas dropped back to the pavement and looked for something to use when the man got closer, but there was nothing at hand.
Risking another look over the hood, he saw the man pointing his handgun towards him, and he dropped down just in time to here the explosion of a gunshot. He tore his shoes off and tossed one over the car, and when another blast signaled another bullet, Lucas jumped up and threw the other shoe right at the hunter’s head. It impacted rocking the hunter’s head back, giving Lucas his window, and he seized that moment. He would survive this hunt.
Lucas managed to grab his assailant’s gun hand as he struck the man’s temple. Keeping a firm grasp upon the man’s gun hand, Lucas repeatedly struck out at the hunter who was continuing to struggle in an attempt to extricate himself. But with each of Lucas’ strikes, the man’s struggle lessened. Eventually, the man drew a knife and lashed out at Lucas. Fortunately, Lucas managed to glimpse the knife and was just able to block the blow. Lucas then tightened his grip upon the hunter’s wrist, before striking the hunter’s head with all his strength, that finally managed to drop the hunter.
Lucas fell to his knees securing the gun before he went about tieing up his hunter. Finally, safe Lucas allowed himself to smile at his survival.
]]>The trip to Medicia took three weeks, though the landing crew spent the first two in isolation. Only being released when all the tests came up negative did the doctors grudgingly allowed them to leave, as they demanded that their fleeing patients avoid any strenuous duties or activities. Yet as soon as Rylan escaped they containment he was ordered to the captain’s ready room.
So when Rylan entered the ready room, a warm and half-hearted smile broke out from the captain’s usually emotionless face. “Well, Rylan I think you’ve finally been vindicated.”
“It’s amazing how that happened,” Rylan answered bluntly.
With a gruff chuckle, the captain replied, “People can be like that Rylan.” Rubbing his chin for a moment, the captain immediately jumped to the real reason he summoned the technician. “We are a week out from Medicia, but I don’t want you going down to the planet.”
“Why?”
“Because I will need you to go down to Laria, and I won’t expose you to that radiation that many times.”
“You’re getting a little ahead of yourself aren’t you, Captain?” Rylan asked as defiance began coloring his face.
“Not really.”
“What aren’t you telling me?”
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Having achieved his lifelong dream of replicating a relic Harrison is ecstatic. Yet as he names his device, the Illuminator, his father dashes his hopes of aimlessly tinkering with relics when he informs his son that his Illuminator is going to be mass produced. Adding insult to injury, his father demands that Harrison replicate other relics for the same purpose, beginning with their own.
Leveraging the prestige his son’s device brings, Harrison’s father uses that influence attempting to give his son more relics to study. And for the first time, Harrison begins to understand just how deliberate his father is, no matter how callous it might make him.
After exhausting the relics on his family’s isle, Harrison is forced to refine his Illuminator for other purposes, while his father arranges a trip to the King’s Isle. As the scribe organizes meetings with some of the more prominent nobleman living on the King’s Isle, Harrison is hard at work crafting new designs for his Illuminator.
When Harrison finally arrives on the King’s Isle, he is unsure if he can achieve similar results. Come and discover if Harrison is able to satisfy his father’s desire for power and prestige.
]]>She nudged the piece lying between them with her foot answering, “Just a little it would seem.”
“He told me he would have us flying again in twenty minutes,” Daniel said as he entered the line of fire. “And that was two hours ago.”
“I’m going to go keep Laurie company,” Rachel said as she reached back into the room, quickly grabbing a deck of cards. “She might be crazy, but at least I won’t get abused when I try help.”
“That bad today?”
“Did you see the part that flew towards my head?”
“Go,” Daniel said as he entered the engine room and quickly spotted Franco hitting his engines. “Franco stop abusing my ship!”
Franco laughed before he added, “It’s your ship, but they’re my engines, captain. And I would have expected to be able to have working equipment now that we work for Stepan Glazov.”
Daniel flinched at their employer’s name, but he held his initial response before offering his reply, “He expects us to be self-sufficient, Franco and he wants to see how we do with limited funds.”
“That’s a nice way of saying that he’s blackballing us,” Franco said between hammer strikes.
“Captain,” Laurie’s voice chimed over the intercom. “We have an incoming ship.”
The captain depressed the button next to the intercom, “What’s it want?”
“I don’t know, but I can’t shake it.” She replied as the ship lurched punctuating her retort.
“What was that Laurie?”
“That was the ship attaching itself to us.”
“Where?”
A wry laugh broke out over the intercom followed shortly by Laurie’s reply, “Right next to you captain.”
“There’s no docking port…” The captain stopped talking when he heard the distinctive sound of a plasma torch cutting through metal. He looked through the door towards the hull and saw the distinctive glow of melting metal. The captain swore as he jammed the button to broadcast to the entire ship, “Cecil and Harlen get down to the engine room on the double we’re being boarded.” Releasing the intercom, he called out to Franco, “We’ll have to patch the hull once this is over, but we’ll need an immediate patch to make sure they can’t just space us.”
“Roger that,” Franco said as he began rummaging through his equipment. “Got it, but I’ll need to get to where they’re burning through!”
“That’s our job,” Daniel replied as he pulled Franco from the engine room directing him to a far corner of the room handing him a short fat cylinder. “Separate twist and throw once they finish burning through. Then patch the hole once we’re done.”
“Yes, sir,” Franco chirped as he hunkered down in his position to wait.
“Captain, what’s going on?” a voice chimed from further up the corridor.
Daniel looked down the corridor and smiled at Cecil and Harlan as they raced towards the spacious room as the torch’s journey was completing. All four men hunkered down in as much cover as they could and waited as the section of their hull collapsed to the floor. Then three bodies came through the hole, and the crew of the Scythe fired upon the intruders. One immediately dropped getting hit by three bolts of energy, the other two managed to locate a little bit of cover before they returned fire.
The bolt fired from the invaders came dangerously close to Daniel’s face but washed harmlessly over the interior wall. He looked back towards the two men and took advantage of the suppressing fire of his crew and aimed at the intruder he had a clean shot at and pulled the trigger. The bolt of plasma leapt from his gun and tore through the intruder dropping the man. He quickly ducked as an answering bolt of plasma flew over him. Daniel knew the last intruder could stay where he was as long as he needed to, so Daniel cried out, “Now Franco!”
And an answering shot rung out, and silence began to fill the room. With the brief firefight over, Franco raced from his hiding hole and activated the cylinder just as Daniel had instructed him. He threw the device into the ship and then quickly patched the hole with a portable shield right before the ship that had been clinging to the Scythe detached and floated away. Daniel issued orders to the crew by him, “Franco fix the engines, Cecil and Harlan search the bodies.” He quickly ran for an intercom and connected to the bridge, “Laurie, talk to me about that ship.”
“Well, you designed that little bomb for these situations, Captain,” Rachel’s voice chirped from the intercom.
“Laurie?!” Daniel’s inquiry was full of yearning as his face began to crease with worry.
“Well the ship’s systems are restarting, but it wasn’t fast enough for the two member’s of the crew who had stayed behind,” Laurie answered.
“Harlan, you’re with me, Cecil stay with Franco just in case we get another visit. And Franco fix my engines now!”
A chorus of agreement echoed from the three men as Daniel ran to the ships cargo hold. Harlan was right behind him and asked, “We going to salvage what we can?”
“There’s no one left to on the ship,” Daniel said as he entered the cargo hold. Pressing the intercom in the hold, he issued another order, “Laurie dock with that ship.”
“Yes, sir,” Laurie answered promptly.
Daniel walked towards the lockers next to the docking port’s airlock, “Let’s go shopping, Harlan.”
]]>He was injured in the exchange due to a misfire, but he was able to recover. Towards the end of the recovery Eroica returned having escaped from the breeding grounds, upon hearing of his captain’s freedom along with some other Prussian dragons’ whose captains were discovered to be free. Unfortunately, they returned with news about Temeraire’s egg. During Blood of Tyrants they had left the egg with the Chinese so Prince Mianning could have his Celestial dragon, but the newly freed Prussian dragons tell Temeraire that Lien was going to steal the egg in order to destroy it to keep the Celestial line pure.
Temeraire left Laurence behind so he could recover while he fled to China to protect the egg, but the first time Temeraire slept the terrified Russian citizens tried burning him alive while he slept in an apparently abandoned barn. After making his escape, he was still burned, but Temeraire quickly found Tharkay after that who informed him that the egg was already on its way to France. Temeraire collects Laurence and partnering with Tharkay they go in search of the egg. During this journey, they are reunited with Iskierka and Granby before they are captured and made prisoners.
Temeraire and Iskierka independently of their captains plan their escape with their egg only for it to hatch mid-escape. The newly hatched dragon helped her parent’s captains escape, and the entire group fled to England with full knowledge of Napoleon’s draconic Coalition. Once there they are returned to the continent to rejoin the war, and Laurence despite his traitorous past is made an admiral thanks to having endeared himself to the Russian Czar.
The admiralty does what it can to burden their newest admiral with captains that would do what they could to undermine Laurence. Though with some gentle words from Admiral Roland, Laurence is able to temper the disrespect of the captains by gaining the respect of their dragons. With the knowledge that the French will have almost four thousand dragons entering their aerial corps within a year, the allied forces are forced to bring a conclusion to the war immediately if they can, considering they are going up against one of the most brilliant generals ever born.
League of Dragons was a fitting conclusion to the series, despite not being a fan Ning’s personality. There were also some threads whose completion felt a little forced and only partially implied. Specific threads had gotten so much build up throughout the series that they deserved a bit more attention than what they received. But with that said the series was very pleasurable from its beginnings in His Majesty’s Dragon till its final words.
]]>Keldon reached out for the scope his friend was offering and looked out over the massing force for himself. “Not only that, but it seems that we have new creatures to deal with.”
“So it does,” Tarian said grimly.
“We were barely able to hold last time,” Sherry said as she buried her head into her hands.
“What about our new friends?” Caleb asked, his voice still managing to cling to some hope.
“The Dwarves might help us,” Tarian said flatly.
“It would be nice to have some help,” Keldon said quickly.
Tarian turned around to look at those gathered around him, “And that’s your job Kel. We will cause a distraction, and while they’re busy with us, you will go find the Elves.”
“I still say that’s a terrible name for them.” Keldon said evenly before adding, “But I’ll do it.”
“And Caleb I want you to go and find the Dwarves and try to secure their assistance.”
Caleb nodded saying, “I’ll go prep my team…”
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Jonathan tried to get Curtis off him as he replied, “Curtis, what happened to you was your own fault.”
“No, you ratted me out, Jonathan!”
“You were stealing from the company!” Jonathan said as he managed to dislodge his co-worker. “You brought this upon yourself.”
“No, you got me fired, and you will pay for it!” Curtis said as he peered through slitted eyes.
Because of the commotion, a guard approached the two men, positioning themselves behind Curtis and one said, “Is there a problem Mr. Reyes?”
Curtis turned around shaking his head, “There’s no problem here. I was on my way out.” As he stomped away, Curtis turned his head and muttered loud enough for Jonathan to hear, “You will pay for what you’ve done to me.”
Jonathan ignored Curtis’s remarks and immediately returned his thoughts to his work. He had received permission to work into the night, though it was a less glamorous, he just needed the money. Once the line stopped for the day, Jonathan grabbed his portable white noise machine, before grabbing his mop and bucket. By the time he started, he was listening to the soothing sounds of the ocean. With dim lights, he diligently worked at cleaning the floor around the assembly line. Just as he was finishing, the little dim light went out.
Before Jonathan could react to the sudden darkness something grabbed his wrist. Instinctively he tried to pull his arm away from whatever had seized him, yet the grip only tightened as malevolent laughter filled the air. A shiver ran down his spine, as he fumbled for his phone with his free hand. The moment the screen offered some illumination he heard a yelp of pain, as the restraining grasp let go.
Using his phone to flood the area next to him with bright white light, he found nothing. But the laughter continued to ring out, so using his light he tried to follow it, but every time he washed light where he heard the laughter originating nothing was there. Having felt like he had searched everywhere, Jonathan rushed to the light switches. He quickly turned them off waited for a few seconds and then turned them back on, yet the light never spilled out into the room.
Looking towards the ceiling, he saw spreading darkness with cracks of light breaking through in patches. He turned and flew to the door only to find that it was unyielding, someone had locked him in. Tentatively he stepped back into the room, and within moments he could feel warm air enveloping the back of his neck. While the warm air bathed his exposed skin, the menacing laughter boomed from behind him. Fear tore through Jonathan causing his legs to feel as if they were wrapped in cement.
Before he could spur himself to action, he felt pain lance across his back as something raked him. As his cry tore through the near silence Jonathan’s flailing hands managed to bath the area behind him with light. The ensuing howl of pain ripped through Jonathan and began echoing off the walls. When the cacophony started to die away, Jonathan heard Curtis’ voice, “You may have harmed my friend, but your little light won’t last forever.”
Jonathan immediately knew that he needed to find something that would offer more protection than his phone. So his free hand immediately began groping for anything while he tried to light the large room with what he had. When his hands fell upon some cloth, relief started flooding into him as Jonathan yanked the cloth towards him creating a chorus of clattering and shattering objects. But he didn’t care, he had a spark of hope.
Another howl rang out, though this time instead of declaring pain it was crying out for vengeance. Jonathan quickly pulled out his lucky lighter and began to light the cloth. As the fabric started to burn, he realized that there were hundreds of bolts of material, so he started pulling more down and feeding his meager fire. After the third bolt was added Jonathan heard more cries of pain from whatever had attacked him. As the sounds began to die away, he was able to make out Curtis’ faint curses.
Jonathan took in several deep breaths and listened to the symphonic crackle of the fire. Then he heard the deafening click as a handgun was cocked. He ducked behind some machinery moments before a bullet tore into where he had been. “Fine, Jonathan, we’ll do it this way!”
Jonathan’s eyes began looking for anything that he could use to defend himself with, but all he found was a pipe propped up against the machinery. “I told you that you would regret what you did.”
Jonathan could tell that his crazy former co-worker was drawing closer, so with his pipe held firmly, he began trying to locate his assailant. As he searched, he heard another explosion and the crack of an impact as the latest bullet embedded itself into something. Jonathan swallowed his fear and looked around a corner and saw Curtis’ back a couple feet away.
Biting his lower lip Jonathan instantly decided to act forcing his body to obey. He pounced towards Curtis, as he was turning around the pipe impacted with his back driving him to the ground. After a tense moment the sprinklers finally went off, and Jonathan’s eyes went wide as his fear grew. Yet as the fire died, the lights began to flicker on, and another unearthly howl of pain ripped through the room. Soaked and thoroughly bathed in light, Jonathan relaxed as the silence intensified.
]]>Ezekiel quickly secured himself in a nearby corner and withdrew his night vision goggles. As he slipped them on, he examined the room, and his distaste flared to life. He despised being asked to break into embassies because he didn’t like operating without some kind of safety net. Unfortunately for him, he knew he was one of the few who could do what was needed of him and get back out unscathed. He forced the distaste out of his mind and forced his razor-sharp focus to the task at hand.
After his scan of the room, he walked towards the door on the right. He quickly placed his ear to the door and listened for a few moments. With disgust, he kneeled down and deftly unlocked this inner door, and gingerly opened the door a crack. Looking through that crack, Ezekiel noticed that there was a guard who appeared to be pacing. He waited for the guard to begin his journey away from the door before he opened it and struck out at the guard. But the man had sensed the attack and effortlessly deflected the blow.
The guard instantly spun to face Ezekiel who was already ducking underneath the guard’s instinctual strike. He let the momentum of his escape from the attack flow into his next attack as he attempted to sweep the legs out from under the guard. Fortunately, Ezekiel managed to catch one, and the guard stumbled trying to remain standing. Without wasting another moment, he grabbed the precarious guard by the neck and pulled him to the floor with as little noise as possible.
The guard repeatedly struck just below Ezekiel’s ribs, drawing a series of muffled grunts. Ezekiel rapidly pulled some cloth from a nearby chair and stuffed it down the guard’s mouth as he restrained the striking limbs. A moment later the guard was secured and hidden away, and Ezekiel was checking the doors in the room. According to his directions he wanted to take the far right door, unfortunately, it was locked. He reached for his tool and immediately felt the crack running through it.
He came close to kicking the obstacle, but he knew that he needed to get into that room, without alerting the embassy that he was there. So he started looking around for something that he could use. After a brief search, he found a pin cushion with an array of sewing needles. He quickly collected a couple of them and began using them to unlock the door. It took him longer, but he was able to use the make-shift tools to gain access to the room.
Entering the room, Ezekiel smiled when he saw that his intelligence had been accurate. He quickly began searching through the files, and he eventually found the document he needed. It was all the evidence his superiors would need to prove that the ambassador was corrupt and using the embassy to traffic contraband into the city. He carefully removed the papers from the file and quickly perused the rest of the file. Once he finished, he returned the initial document knowing that the other paperwork was the corroborating evidence needed to ensure the ambassador’s dismissal.
Ezekiel knew the entire file would be useful quickly secured it into his bag. He quickly removed all the blatant evidence that he had been there and promptly began to make his withdraw. As soon as Ezekiel left the file room, he could sense a strike coming at his head. So he instantly dove forward just managing to avoid the blow. And without stopping he fluidly rolled to his feet and spun to face his assailant.
He was surprised to see the guard he had dealt with, but somehow he had managed to extricate himself from his confinement. The man was well muscled and just as tall as Ezekiel. As the two stood on opposite ends of the room, Ezekiel locked onto the man’s eyes and managed to see respect and anger feuding behind his opponent’s eyes. Ezekiel smiled as the man spoke plainly, “You know I can’t let you leave.”
“You’re welcome to try,” Ezekiel said as he shifted his feet sightly readying himself for his opponent’s new attack. When it came, Ezekiel easily sidestepped the initial strike only to get a knee into his already bruised ribs. Ezekiel grunted and grabbed the man’s neck pulling him close, and he began to land blows to his stomach and knees. The guard tried to deflect the strikes but was unable to keep up with Ezekiel’s relentless assault. Finally, Ezekiel managed to overcome the man’s defenses and his foot connected with the guard’s knee. As the guard collapsed Ezekiel clapped a hand over his mouth preventing a loud scream, while his other wrapped around the man’s throat. Within moments the guar’s breathing began to slow, “You did well, and I’m sorry you’ll be punished for this.”
When Ezekiel was confident that his worthy adversary was unconscious, he laid him upon the ground and quickly made his escape from the embassy without drawing more attention.
]]>Harrison is the eldest son of a noble of the Isles. He seldom agrees with his father on anything, and the root of their disagreements is the fact that Harrison refuses to take his rightful place in the family. He is a tinkerer at heart, something his father believes to be beneath his station. Harrison’s obsession drives his father to his limits, so one night his father gives his son an ultimatum. He can either take his rightful place within the family or become an outcast. And Harrison only has a single night to make his decision.
Shaken by his father’s demand, Harrison takes a moment to collect himself before he begins wandering the halls of his villa, as he tries to make a decision. Harrison decides to go to the sole reason he was even thinking about assuming his rightful place, his family’s collection of relics. While some of the relics have known capabilities, most are merely cherished because of their potential power. Among his family’s collection, are a couple of weapons, s cloak and even some unassuming spheres of glass.
When he can, Harrison spends most of his time in this room trying to do what no one has ever managed, duplicate a relic. Yet every attempt falls short of its goal. However now with his father’s ultimatum hanging over him, Harrison knows that if he chooses his tinkering, he will never get another chance to examine these marvels again. Come see if Harrison is able to find a way to stay in his family’s home while avoiding the fate he has been running from ever since he was old enough.
]]>While he waited, Daniel lifted one of the utensils in front of him and was surprised to find a spork in his hand. He shook his head as he traded the odd utensil for his phone, and so he could send a message to his crew instructing them to be ready. He leaned back in his booth and examined the lanky yet well-groomed man who entered the tavern. His entire demeanor screamed that he was used to getting his own way. Daniel sighed when the gangly greenhorn caught sight of him and smiled broadly. As the man made his way towards him, Daniel realized thought that he had seen one too many cheesy movies and had certain expectations for this encounter.
Daniel sighed as his employer slid into the booth asking, “Were you able to acquire the goods?”
“I wouldn’t have called you otherwise,” Daniel said as he tapped the hidden communications device behind his right ear twice, opening a channel to his crew. “However you seem to be missing my payment.”
The fool sitting across from Daniel attempted to flash a predatory smile but ended up displaying how young and foolish he was instead. “I assure you, Captain Shaw, I have your payment with me.”
Daniel groaned mentally, but he decided to go along with this little charade for now. He needed to give his crew time to neutralize any and all of this man’s precautions, so he slid back into the booth and replied, “You were told that I only work with cold hard cash. My crew and I don’t work for anything else, so please tell me how you could possibly have my three million when you’re not even carrying a briefcase.”
The employer smiled again and reached into his coat, but Daniel had been waiting for that motion. Before the greenhorn knew what happened Daniel’s gun was pressed against the man’s forehead, and the booth’s privacy screen had been erected. As Daniel held the weapon to his employer’s head, the only sound was the slight hum from the privacy screen. Soon sweat began beading up around the greenhorn’s temples, and Daniel leaned in to rummage through the man’s coat speaking quietly “Don’t do anything foolish.”
The greenhorn relented withdrawing his hand then Daniel managed to find what the man had been fishing for, and slowly pulled it out. Once in the open Daniel cursed at his jump to action, while greenhorn said, “I was just trying to pay you.”
Waving the wallet, Daniel asked, “It doesn’t lessen my concern. There is no way you can have my three million in this wallet.”
“It’s all there, it came straight from the bank.” Greenhorn answered quickly.
“What?”
“It’s the latest technology.” Greenhorn looked around as if the privacy field had been dropped already and whispered conspiratorily, “It’s bigger on the inside.”
Daniel scoffed as he depressed the informational button and the bank’s seal flashed across the screen followed momentarily by the amount. “Whatever,” the captain lifted the satchel to the table and slid it across to his employer and was reaching for the field’s controls when the alarms all started blaring. Looking around Daniel could see the field fracturing and then he saw the blood pooling around his employer’s chest.
With a curse, Daniel grabbed the bag and broke through the failing field and was greeted by the commotion that was ensuing in the bar. Armed thugs were trying to intercept everyone as they tried to escape. Daniel tucked his head down and made for his emergency bolthole from the Lost Flask. As he crossed the threshold of his private exit, Daniel noticed the barrel of a gun becoming level with his face and he instinctively clenched his fists letting his personal shield flare into existence as the bolt of plasma washed over him.
While he was protected by the scorching heat it did steal his breath and force him to the ground, but Daniel instantly rolled to his feet, having secured the money case and withdrawing his own sidearm taking aim at the shadow that had just tried to kill him. “You just missed your shot.” Daniel said as he took a step to steady himself, before crying out, “Now back off and you won’t get hurt.”
A hearty and warm chuckle issued out into the damp and foul air behind the bar, and a large and well-built man stepped into the waining light eliciting a gasp from Daniel, “I take it you know me?”
“You’re Stepan Glazov.”
“It’s good to be famous,” The man said with great eloquence as he lowered his weapon and walked up to Daniel. He grasped the captain and said, “I’m surprised that you walked out of the Lost Flask in one piece.”
“It was a challenge,” Daniel said trying to find a clear way to get around this dangerous man.
“I was impressed with how you managed to acquire my property, Captain Shaw.”
“I didn’t realize that it was yours,” Daniel said emphasizing his contrition.
The large man nodded his head and said in reply, “I know this, the man who hired you kept much from you. But he has been dealt with. And see myself having great need of your services in the future.”
“Wait? What?!” Daniel asked through a furrowed brow.
“Congratulations, Captain Shaw, I’m hiring you and your crew.” Stepan grinned menacingly as he lifted the satchel concluding, “Consider this your successful interview.”
]]>The first page delved into a brief overview of what happened during the previous two books. And then the story continued into the piece of the story it was dedicated to, Jonathin’s travel into the north. The art does a fantastic job to present a long an arduous travel in a concise number of frames. It also helps to show that passion that drives our hero. As before there is a page that truly captured my eye and kept me coming back. This page was a wonderful example of less being more. Unfortunately, it was the last page of the issue, so I won’t go into too many details the sparse details, pick up the issue here. What that said it was a wonderful use of imagery and text.
Once I finished taking in the art, held within my digital tome, I turned my attention to its text. Before I go any farther, I want to mention that the book ended far too soon, yet it managed to give the most insight into the inner thoughts of our main character. We received an insight into Jonathin’s sheer determination to find his answers and the power of that conviction. Then when he is faced with an arctic environment, we see his ingenuity as he is able to stay warm, while he got a night’s sleep.
But his sleep was not pleasant, and we were immediately introduced to his dreams. And from the text, it seems like it was always the same one. We were introduced to a particular moment in Jonathin’s youth. There were plenty of people in the dream bit aside from Jonathin’s face we were only able to see one other. And based upon the text it appeared to be a father, or merely a father figure, who after caring for the young Jonathin has to leave him to deal with a commotion. Of course, before we are able to delve any further into the memory, Jonathin woke up to find snow falling.
The story was well crafted and has managed to capture my attention. I cannot wait for the next installment of this series to find out what will happen to our hero next. I will keep an eye out for the next issue on the author’s Facebook page and his Kickstarter page. Until then I will periodically thumb through these tomes and enjoy the journey that I can access.
]]>Rylan smiled as he quickly finished getting dressed and then promptly reported to the shuttle bay. It had taken two and a half weeks to get to the first stop on the journey. When he arrived at the shuttle bay, he was greeted by Marcus, who still distrusted the technician. “Well if it isn’t our favorite saboteur.”
Rylan covered his eyes with a hand as he asked, “Marcus when were you assigned to the landing crew?”
“I was assigned just this morning.”
“By who?” Rylan asked as he tried to walk past the brutish man.
“By someone with more authority than you,” Marcus spoke at Rylan’s back before he followed to get into their suits for the trip down to the Latria.
Rylan was spared having to listen to any more of Marcus’ nonsense when Connor entered the room and quickly placed himself between them. Once Marcus went off to prepare himself Connor whispered to the technician, “Why does he dislike you so much?”
“I wish I knew, but let’s get ready to go,” Rylan answered as he continued getting ready.
By the time the rest of the landing crew arrived at the shuttle bay the captain had announced that they had dropped into Latrian space and had scanned the planet. The captain had paused for a moment before he told the crew the results of the scan, “There is no sign of life anywhere on the planet. As we get closer, we should be able to learn more.”
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To continue reading the story, click here to head over to Wattpad.
I have created a Patreon page for precisely this reason. I have spent a fair amount of time deciding what kind of benefits I would offer for the various levels of support, and as a result of that thought I have come up with the following five tiers.
On my Become A Patreon page I go into more details for each tier. So, please visit the page and consider what you can give if you enjoy the content that I create and want to help keep it coming. One last note for those who love the feel of a hardcover book, the Silver, Gold and Diamond tiers will be the best way to get a hardcover copy of my novels and short stories.
]]>The King of the Central Kingdom is a capricious tyrant lording his wealth and power over his kingdom. The king has been refusing each petitioner in turn, as is his wont, until, for a fleeting moment, he notices a face that didn’t match the rest of the crowd. Unfortunately, the motion of the crowd allows that face to disappear back into the waiting petitioners.
Danger is something the king has become numb to, ever since he employed the best protection available in his kingdom, perhaps across all of the kingdoms, Sylvia. She is an expert at protecting people, thanks to a specific set of abilities, especially those who demand a certain amount of discretion.
Yet later during the petitions that strange face appears once more, and it is full of malice and defiance. The king immediately tries to locate it only to be distracted again, once more letting the face disappear back into the crowd. With this face appearing multiple times, the king’s faith in his protection is about to be measured.
]]>When the object broke through the wet sand, she was excited to find a pair of sunglasses. She gently lifted the solid frames from the sand, letting the incoming waves clean the clinging sand from it. She looked around, but there were only a few people, and they were far away, so she lifted her prize, peering through them to see if they were prescription ones. When her vision didn’t distort, she smiled enjoying the greyed expansive waters.
She quickly rubbed the lenses dry with the edge of her shirt before she put them on. She turned to walk back towards her parents and noticed a strange man off to her right. She hadn’t seen him earlier, and she wondered what he was doing there. He must have noticed her studying him because he began walking towards her. She didn’t want to deal with the stranger, so she jogged back towards her parents.
As she went, she kept looking over her shoulder, and the man was still following her. Each time she looked away from the stranger she forced herself to move just a little faster. When she finally reached her father, she collapsed, and the glasses fell from her nose. Yet the arms managed to grasp her temples like a man hanging onto the edge of a cliff. Her father quickly came to her side helping her to her feet asking, “Darling are you okay?”
“Someone is chasing after me!” Bethany said frantically.
Her father looked where she pointed shaking his head slightly, “Bethany, no one is over there.”
Bethany was hugging her father with every bit of her strength, but now she loosened her grip as she slowly twisted her head to find the stranger. Yet when she looked out the man had vanished. She let go of her father saying, “I promise a man was chasing me.”
Lifting her head up her father kissed Bethany’s forehead speaking with tenderness, “If there was he’s long gone darling. He must have seen where you were going, and he left you alone. Why don’t you wait here and enjoy the sunset with me.”
Bethany shook her head explaining, “I think I just need something to eat and drink.”
With a nod, her father pulled something out of his pocket, “Here is a little money, would you like me to go with you?”
Flashing an unsteady smile, Bethany assured her father that she was fine, as she took the money and walked towards the boardwalk, fully intending to eat something. As Bethany went to her favorite food stand, the sun’s light was beating upon her exposed eyes, so she shaded her eyes with her hand, and it brushed the still clinging arm of the sunglasses. She had forgotten about her prize, with a sigh she quickly slipped them back on and came eye to eye with the stranger.
Bethany yelped, leaping backward. She was fortunate that she didn’t fall or collide with anything. And the man immediately appeared next to her placing his hand upon her’s, with that she could hear him, “…need your help.”
Bethany pulled her hand trying to get away, but she found that it wouldn’t move. She began taking shallow rapid gulps of air and grew more frantic each time her arm refused to budge. The man put his nose next to her’s and deliberately spoke. “Please, help me. I have been searching for someone who could see me. I need your help.”
The girl studied those glazed over brown eyes and nervously asked, “Who are you?”
“I’m Kevin Johnson. Please, I need help.”
“Why have you been following me?” Bethany asked pleadingly.
“Because you can see me, I need your help.”
“Why do you need my help?” Bethany asked as her frantic mind began to slow. When she was calm enough, Bethany realized something, “Why can I only see you with the sunglasses.”
“I’m dying, please help me.”
“Dying?”
“Yes please come with me,” Kevin said. However, before she could respond the spry dying man led her to a place close to where she found the sunglasses. And nearby was the twin of the man pulling her along white as a sheet.
“Who are you?” Bethany asked as she tried yanking her arm free again.
“If you don’t help me I will die,” Kevin said as he emphatically pointed at the still form lying on the sand. Kevin’s face became desperate as he wailed, “Please help me.”
Bethany thought for a moment before she rushed to action. She lifted the body as best she could and dragged him towards the sparsely populated part of the beach. After what felt like hours she heard the shrill sound of a whistle. Moments later her heavy burden was lifted from her, as the swarming lifeguards began exercising their craft to revive Kevin.
As the lifeguards worked Bethany edged away keeping her eyes on the duplicate Kevin. As they worked, the copy began drifting towards the still form. It slowly merged with the body on the ground, and mouthed two words, “Thank you.” When at last they were joined, and the once still man began coughing as color flooded back into his body.
Bethany tried to flee, but one of the lifeguards grabbed her guiding her to Kevin saying, “Sir she is responsible for saving your life.”
Looking up Kevin as he gripped his chest the man spoke hoarsely, “Thank you, miss. Thank you.”
Bethany blushed as she warmly replied, “Your welcome.”
]]>Now with everything that Laurence and Temeraire have gone through, it is hard to imagine what Naomi Novik might put them through in Blood of Tyrants. However within moments of cracking the book the new struggles are painted vividly as Laurence awakens on shores of Japan with no knowledge of himself. Now I will temper this with a quick word, as the book continues we learn that Laurence is not an empty slate. He eventually begins to remember things, but he has no memory of his life as an aviator. We eventually discover how he ended up on the shores of Japan, during a savage storm aboard the Potentate, he was claimed by the sea. And while the dragons help free the ship and embark on repairing the damage from the storm Temeraire seeks for and eventually finds Laurence along with his Japanese ally, Junichiro.
With Laurence retrieved, though his mind is still missing the past eight years, the crew of the Potentate resume their journey to China. Despite the missing memories Laurence is willing to embrace the diplomatic mission that was thrust upon them. Once there Laurence and Temeraire both discover just how far the conservative party is ready to go to prevent Prince Mianning from becoming the emperor of China. Now to secure the help they need to combat Napoleon’s thirst for conquest, Laurence and Temeraire need to investigate the threat of Brittish opium smuggling in China while protecting Iskierka and Temeraire’s egg.
Laurence’s struggle to complete his mission weighs heavily upon him as he struggles to reclaim his mind. This new internal struggle is one of the more fascinating aspects of this book, as the doctor recommends that Laurence not be given too much information about his life as an aviator to shield his already ailing mind. This forces the rest of the aviators to mince their words and choose them very carefully as they strive to follow the orders they had been given. But it is also infuriating to Laurence as he can tell there are things that they do not want to offer up in fear of doing more harm to him.
The new strands that the book weaves into the larger tapestry are once again phenomenal. Each of the new strands adds a new dimension to the whole while shining on its own. And as the book came to a climax I given a fresh new love of the series.
]]>“No love on our route.” Came the stoic response from Tarian’s friend. “I think we have to call the search.”
“No, we need to keep looking, Kel,” Tarian replied with weariness bleeding into his tone.
“Fine, you’re the boss Tarian.” Keldon said, but after a few moments added, “But I want to join up with you.”
“I’m…”
“With this planet, you need all the extra personnel period.”
Tarian sighed but was resigned to the delay. “Fine, just hurry up and get over here.”
“Yes, boos,” Keldon said with a measure of cheer that Tarian felt shouldn’t be there.
Tarian turned around, switching to his team’s channel saying, “Everyone on me.” His command was echoed with a chorus of affirmations. While he waited for everyone to collapse on his position, Tarian flipped his microphone to Caleb’s detachment. “How’s the hunting going for your team?”
The radio chirped to life with Caleb’s always cheerful disposition. “We’ve had a good day, Tarian.”
“How good is good, Caleb?”
“We should have enough meat for about a month.”
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To continue reading the story, click here to head over to Wattpad.
“I have no idea,” the boy replied as he stared at the calm surface of the stream, absorbed by its simplistic beauty. After a few moments of silence, he looked towards his friend saying, “But we should cross it and see where it goes.“
The little girl looked at the stream and replied, “I don’t think we can jump across it and I don’t want to get wet.”
The boy nodded his assent, but he quickly looked around and found a large branch on the ground nearby. He grabbed it saying, “I think this will reach the other side.”
“Thant’s not going to hold our weight,” the girl answered quickly dismissing his idea.
“No it won’t,” the boy agreed quickly, but he pointed at another branch a few feet away. “But we could lash a bunch of them together to make a bridge so we can cross.”
The girl folded her arms across her chest asking, “And you just happen to have some rope?”
The boy smiled as he pulled down the sleeve of his coat exposing a colorful bracelet. “I have my paracord bracelets, so yeah I should have enough rope, and I’ll test the bridge first.”
The girl smiled and began searching for appropriately long branches under the snow as she cried out to her friend, “Let’s do it.”
So the children began scouring their side of the bank for branches that would bridge the stream. Each time they found a branch that they thought might work they tried to touch one end to the far side of the stream. Some fell short of that bank and were plucked from their hands while others reached the opposite bank. And each time one of their branches touched that distant ground they heard a thud that was far too loud for their gentle touch, yet they ignored it as a trick of the minds.
Once they found ten branches of sufficient length, they pulled them back to their side of the stream. And the boy removed his paracord bracelets and started to lash them together. Once he was done with one side, he scurried to the other and repeated the process completing their make-shift bridge. Once done they lifted their bridge carrying it to the stream and carefully laid one edge along the far bank. Then with a smile, they dropped their load letting the bridge fall to the ground, but instead of a gentle thud, a thunderclap echoed from the forest.
They spun around in circles trying to locate what had caused the noise but couldn’t find anything. Finally, the boy offered his friend a half smile, and when he placed his foot on the bridge, a strange and unearthly menacing voice cried out, “Who dares cross my bridge?”
Again the children shared a look together wondering if they should leave, but the boy gave a sheepish smile as he moved his foot farther along the bridge. When his foot stopped inching forward an arm shot from the still surface of the water enveloping the far side of the bridge. And that strange voice asked, “Who dares cross my bridge?”
The girl reached for the boy’s arm tugging it away from the arm, but before the boy moved, the water erupted sending water everywhere. When the forest was still once more they looked up and saw a large and ungainly creature standing on the far side of the bridge, water dripping from its mishappen body and patchwork hair. The massive thing snarled at the children, and both children gasped in fear.
The creature took a ponderous step towards the children as it snarled, “Who dares to cross my bridge?!”
Instinctively the boy took a step back and heard his friend scream, “We have to run.” Yet one of the boy’s hands brushed his pocket knife, and he knew what he needed to do. He pulled the pocket knife from its pouch and swiftly began cutting at the lashings. Yet the creature kept moving closer to them one ponderous step after another. Finally, the boy was able to slice the rope, and he began spreading the branches, just as the thing’s leg came down upon a single branch.
With the monster’s weight landing upon a single branch, it snapped. And the monster’s foot went through it and back into the stream. A moment later the rest of the creature’s body fell upon the spreading branches snapping each in turn, and the thing fell into the water. The boy stood up edging closer to the water peering into it, and he saw the thing sinking away from the surface, but it made one last lunge for him. The boy fell backward trying to escape its lunge, and the girl rushed to his side. She helped the boy up before looking back towards the stream only to find it gone as if it had never been there.
]]>Now that the ship was entering planetary orbit, the loneliness of the bridge was being erased with a vengeance. The ship’s automation was only designed to operate during the long stretches of space between planets. If the sensors hadn’t found its target, it would have plotted a course to a new system. But once it detected the suitable world, an announcement was sent throughout the ship so they could prepare to colonize the new planet. The most crucial part of this dance was the bridge crew assuming their posts to bring the colonization vessel into a stable orbit.
Two lights at Marcus’ console went out, and Marcus opened communications with the two cruisers. “Cruisers please confirm separation from Colony Ship control.”
Two voices confirmed that the ship’s escort was no longer being controlled, they would be able to defend the traveling empire if needed. With the confirmation Marcus let his eyes drift from those lights to another bank of sensors so he could monitor the ship’s progress.
“Marcus, how does everything look?” Nathaniel asked as he walked from his chair towards the busy Marcus.
Keeping his eyes upon his systems, Marcus replied, “Everything looks fine so far.”
“Nothing ever goes wrong, Nathaniel,” Kenneth said as he walked onto the bridge.
“Just because nothing has happened before doesn’t mean nothing will ever happen Kenneth. And you’re late.” Nathaniel chastized the young man as he was taking his station.
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So two worlds were chosen, Latria and Medicia. Thanks to the comprehensive Larian library they were able to plot to each planet. Also thanks to the library they knew where each platform was located just in case the lack of communication was more than just an inherent system failure. Which was a thought that Rylan was being forced to abandon with each passing day.
Lounging in the hot tub, Rylan tried to let his mind turn off, but it kept trying to figure out what could have happened on Laria for the platforms not to be able to establish their link. Deep down the tech knew that the only way was for the Larian twin to be destroyed or turned off but no platform was ever turned off this long. He also knew just how much it would take to destroy platforms, the Larian scientists had constructed them to be virtually indestructible. Though everything had at least one weakness.
He pushed the thought from his mind, with the training done, he and the fifty other volunteers would make their way to the new spaceship tomorrow. From there they would launch themselves out of the safety of their planet and into the emptiness of space. As Rylan thought about that he slowly began to understand what they were all genuinely going to do. While he was one of the few, who had been to another one of the planets in the Federation none of them had ever traveled in a spaceship.
Virtually no one in the Larian Federation ventured out into the galaxy in a spaceship, not with the platforms. There were a few ships in the Federation, but those had been mostly put aside for specialized purposes. The platforms were merely a much more efficient means to travel between the planets in the federation. As a result, the space-faring aspect of their ancestors had died out long ago. The truth of which Rylan saw as he looked at everyone as they made their final preparations for launch.
Everyone was silent as they collected their equipment, as each finished their preparations they walked towards the embarkation area. Rylan stopped watching the rest of the crew and returned to getting himself ready for departure, but was interrupted by one of his neighbors. “So the saboteur is taking his time to prepare.”
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Just like the first book, the second one was intriguing, and it captured my attention. Letting my eyes soak up the cover my mind was ready for action and my mind was prepared for the promise of knightly action. Scrolling past the cover I found the first page of the book, and just like before we are given more information about Jonathin in the present. He has taken on the mantle of a wandering hero, and we are dropped into the middle of one of his heroic acts. In the encounter Jonathin quickly is forced to remember his past and the book continues right where the first left off.
With my first pass through the book, I studied the art and took in all of the panels’ details. The artwork of this book goes farther than the first expressing the characters emotions, specifically those of Jonathin. From the Kickstarter campaign I knew that Jonathin’s family was going to die and that fact was definitely foreshadowed in the first book and executed perfectly in this book. The panels perfectly captured the emotional impact of the characters at very critical times.
The pace of the emotional bombshells was broken wonderfully with action and humor, more on that in a second. But the action sequences were beautifully drawn and did what they were supposed to do, they kept me turning the pages. While there were no full-page panels in this issue, there were plenty of pages that I lingered on so I could absorb every detail of the page. My favorite page was the one that has five full-width panels. Each strip is captivating but my favorite one was the second, and it always yanks my eyes to it when I reach that page.
After absorbing the artwork, I went back to the beginning and read the book. Just like with the previous book, the text was wonderfully paired with the art, from the backstory to the final scene. The emotional bombshells were amplified by the text just as the action scenes were heightened. Now as far as the humor of the book, it was epitomized by a vulture wondering just how nutritious one of the dying hawkoid creatures would be.
Taking a step back and looking at the book as a whole I wasn’t disappointed with this entry. It did wonders to advance the plot that started with the first issue, in addition to layering on its own new threads into a single tale. And just as with the first book I wanted to open the latest entry and read it from cover to cover. Yet again just as before my desire to savor these books is so strong that for now, I will content myself with going through this book, again and again, absorbing every detail that I can glean from Jonathin Quackup of the Planet Weralt issue #2.
]]>Though even with the dead end it wasn’t the end of his investigation, not when there was a bomb threat. These investigations were always a high priority, and with this one, it felt like the entire precinct had been pulled into the frantic search. By the time he arrived, the initial search had already been done, finding nothing. But the note detailed everything from the address to the time of detonation. There was one other thing on the letter expressly forbidding the police to try and evacuate either the location and surrounding blocks, or the explosion would be earlier.
There was an off chance that it was a hoax, but Ryan didn’t think it possible not from the letter’s tone. He put the note back and continued examining the backstage, wandering towards the dressing rooms. When Ryan found the first door he was puzzled when he saw it closed, he quickly knocked. While he waited for an answer, he waived one of the officers over asking, “Was this room searched?”
“I’m not sure.”
As Ryan turned the knob, he ordered the officer, “If it had been it should have been left open, find out if it was searched.”
“Yes, sir.”
Ryan opened the door calling out, “This is Detective Graves, is anyone here?”
When there was no response, Ryan searched for a light switch flipping it once located by his fingers. From the state of the room he knew, it had escaped the initial search. Ryan didn’t care how that happened, so he began his visual search. After the brief visual examination, Ryan stalked over to the bookshelf and instinctively picked up one of the numerous shot glasses adorning one of the many shelves. He looked at the clear glass and shrugged his shoulders before returning it to its shelf.
Looking at the floor, Ryan noticed some scratch marks running out from underneath the bookshelf. The detective cocked his head, and went down to his knee and examined the damaged wood. It was grooved as if something had been carving the wood slowly, he rubbed the front edge of the bookshelf and felt the offending edge. Ryan stood up and pulled the bookshelf away from the wall, exposing a cavity in the wall. When he looked around the bookshelf, he saw the bomb, and as the materials flowed under the drywall, Ryan knew it was larger than what he could see.
Turning around to call for a member of the bomb squad, when he caught sight of something swinging towards his head. Ducking down the improvised weapon to swung over his head ruffling his hair in its wake. Looking up Ryan caught sight of his assailant, one of the actors in the play. The actor looked from the detective to the exposed bomb and with a calmness that shouldn’t have been there, the actor lashed out exclaiming, “It doesn’t matter you can’t stop my righteous war!”
Ryan saw the strike and knew he wouldn’t be able to escape it and was tensing his body to absorb it when he heard a pop. Then he saw the actor’s body convulse as electricity was pumped into in from a taser. As the actor fell, Ryan saw the officer he had sent away earlier. Ryan took a small breath then muttered, “You have great timing, officer.”
“What’s going on?”
“I found the bomb and the terrorist. Now go get the bomb squad!” Ryan exclaimed as he rushed to secure the actor. Once secured Ryan dragged the bomber to the far corner of the room members of the bomb squad flooded in to disarm the explosive. But Ryan asked, “Have we started evacuating the area?”
“We can’t…” one of the bomb squad members started.
Gesturing at the unconscious man Ryan exclaimed, “We have our guy, and believe me he’s a loaner.”
“Can’t risk it, sir.”
Ryan harumphed but relented, “Fine figure out how to disarm this thing.”
Ryan paced as he watched the bomb squad examine every exposed inch listening to every description. And from the tidbits he heard, there was no receiver nor a wire to connect it to the internet, so the bomb squad agreed to start the evacuation. With time expiring the lead tech found the crucial pair of wires, one would stop the bomb while the other would trigger it. Unfortunately, no one could agree on which one was which, so Ryan grabbed smelling salts and woke the bomber asking him which wire would safely disarm the bomb.
The bomber looked at the bomb and replied with the barest hint of a smile, “The black one.”
Ryan was puzzled at how quickly the bomber replied, so he squeezed the tech’s shoulder and examined the surface himself. Specifically, Ryan looked where the bomber had and noticed screws, “Unscrew those two screws.”
The bomber’s eyes took on a nervousness before protesting, “That would be…”
Ryan pulled out a roll of duct tape, removed a length then silenced the bomber. “Open it.”
The tech nodded and proceeded to remove the screws, exposing three wires. After a couple moments of examination, the tech announced that both of the previous cables would have detonated the bomb. Ryan nodded and asked, “Well which one of these will disarm it.”
“This one.” The tech answered, and the bomber tried to lunge towards the bomb but was quickly restrained by the other officers in the room.
“Cut it,” Ryan commanded. And the tech cut the indicated cable with a nod. Once the wire was split the police waited with bated breaths until the ticking clock powered off.
]]>Once on, she continued to follow the thread until she was able to see light breaking through the thickening darkness. That light drove her forward, and as she pushed through the confining darkness, her eyes were shocked by the bright sun. Once accustomed to the sudden brightness, she discovered that she was in a wondrous forest clearing. Snow fell around her, and she cautiously lifted her hand watching as snowflakes fell upon her palm. She was so obsessed with the snow that she didn’t notice the small bird on her shoulder until it spoke. “Hello, little one.”
The girl jumped back yelping in surprise as she turned to look at the voice, with her eyes upon the little-winged creature, she asked, “Who are you?”
“I’m your guide,” the little creature sung.
“My guide?” The child asked with a mixture of wonder and disbelief.
The bird tilted its head and chirped before declaring, “You’re here to save the forest.”
“What?!, How am I supposed to do that?” Inquired the child.
“Come the wise one will answer your questions,” the bird answered as it leapt from her shoulder.
Despite the unease within her, the girl forced herself to follow her guide to the wise one. When they reached a cave, the bird landed upon her shoulder. The girl pulled upon strength she didn’t know she had and explored the cave until she found the wise one. She hadn’t been prepared to see an enormous wolf, yet one lay in front of her. The wolf’s snow-white fur had large streaks of grey peppered about it. The girl halted, but with a gentle squeeze from the bird’s claws, she tentatively walked to the wolf.
Standing in front of the majestic creature she waited in silence until the wolf spoke, “Welcome little one.”
“How am I supposed to save the forest?”
“It was prophesied long ago that a brave and pure child would stand against the enchantress and bring about her downfall with a single strike.” The wolf said with warmth filling each word.
“How…”
“You will go to the enchantress’ fortress, on your way remove a branch from the first Willow tree you find.”
“How will a branch help me?”
“Trust that it will, little one. “ As the girl nodded, the wolf commanded, “Follow your guide to the enchantress’ fortress.”
With another nod, the girl left following her guide, and they quickly found the willow tree, and she marveled at its beauty. When she walked towards the tree, one of the long drooping branches wiped out striking her eliciting blood, a cry, and a tear. Falling to her knees another branch whipped over her head. When she saw another flying towards her, she began crawling toward the tree. Once there she climbed to the first jutting limb of the tree, then she scooted forward until she could remove one of the flailing switches. With her switch in hand, she dropped to the ground continuing her journey unmolested by the tree. When the fortress came in sight, a woman appeared wearing a flowing dress and holding an imposing and bejeweled staff. The girl stopped, and her guide whispered, “The enchantress, remember what the wise one told you.”
Before the child could take another step, the enchantress cried out, “So this is the thing that is supposed to be my downfall? There is nothing impressive about her.”
When another squeeze from the bird’s claws, the girl was roused to motion once again. The enchantress’ eyes began to fill with hatred, and she lifted her staff to the sky and thunder filled the world. Terrified the girl steeled herself and walked towards the woman when a streak of lightning came rushing towards her to be knocked away by the willow branch.
The child’s confidence grew, with the branches’ defense, and with each step lightning came only to be deflected away. When she was within arm’s reach of the enchantress, she could see the frown and terror on the woman’s face. The enchantress prepared to strike the girl her with the staff, so the girl instinctively lashed out with the switch, and when it struck the enchantress a flash of light erupted followed by a peal of thunder. When the light faded the child was standing in the clearing, she had entered, with the wise one in front of her and her guide circling her head. She looked down at her empty hands and heard the wise one speak to her. “Thank you for your bravery little one, you’ve done more for this world than you will ever know.”
The girl smiled and hugged the great wolf as it continued, “I have brought you back to the clearing that brought you here. Follow the thread back to your home with our thanks.”
The girl nodded against the wolf’s body before she grabbed the thread and followed it back to her home finding her parents looking for her. She raced from the closet embracing them as she cried out, “Mommy, Daddy, Merry Christmas!”
]]>Laurence listens to the offer but is he is initially unsure of what decision he will ultimately make, partially because it is only offered to send him once more into unknown and harrowing action. The dragons of the Tswana are partnering with Napoleon Bonaparte to assault the Portuguese colony of Brazil in an attempt to reclaim their descendants that were abducted from their homelands and forced into slavery. Since the Portuguese are allies of Brittin, they must make great haste to reach them to provide assistance.
Once more Temeraire, Iskierka, and Kulingile disembark for a long journey, though this time it is aboard the Allegiance as it begins to make its way east to Brazil. Unfortunately, they mettle of man and dragon are put to the test, when the more rambunctious of the sailors cause the ship to be destroyed. The three dragons rescue as many of their crews and sailors as they can and with great effort they fly over the expanse of the open motion searching for a place to land.
Aside from the physical endurance, tested by their flight, the emotional fortitude of those dragons and their captains are also put to the test in turn over the rest of the novel. Each beast and captain is presented with at least a single moment where they are given a choice to continue their journey along the path they are currently traveling or seek the road less traveled. This collection of moments is the heart of the story. Each character is forced to take stock of their options and in the heat of the moment are forced to choose and then follow their decision to the end.
Crucible of Gold does a fantastic job of telling a compelling story, but it doesn’t stop there. After six novels, each with their own stellar character development, Naomi Novik manages to once again breath immense life into the lives of her characters. In fact that growth is one of the reasons, I have latched myself upon this series with such ferocity. With each new story, we are presented with everything from daily struggles to life-altering decisions. It is how the characters respond that help enrich the story, and this installment of Temeraire’s tale does not disappoint.
]]>As I took in the images I was confused by the initial panels, based upon the campaign, and ignoring the cover, I was not expecting to see the main character dressed as the wanderer he would eventually become. I was expecting to see the pure origin of the titular character, which did unfold right after that brief introduction. Before I get too far into the story, let me talk about the quality of the artwork in this tome. The art is very clean and crisp capturing the reader’s attention pulling the eyes away from the words. In fact the comics first full page panel epitomizes, this effect.
This panel not only starts the origin of Jonathin but each time I see the image my eyes are immediately drawn to Jonathin’s face. Each and every time as I widen what I’m looking at taking in the more of the image. The next part of the page my eyes latch upon is the sun, partially blocked by clouds. Then my eyes drift down to the trees that appear to be caught in motion from a gust of wind. The last thing my eyes take in is the other character twirling a sling and the animals that the pair is guarding. The picture is crisp and tells a story without my eyes drifting to it’s accompanying text.
With that being said this is a comic book, and so there is accompanying text which amplifies the provided art. And while that art does wonders to serve a lot of the tale, yet when the reader incorporates the text, a full and satisfying story is found. The characters are introduced quickly and their importance to Jonathin, especially his family, is made clear from the start. Several cues, both visual and written, helped to establish that significance, but the strongest was the use of Jonathin’s cousin Taeheed, who plays a central part in the story of this first issue.
When I reached the end of the book, I immediately wanted to reach for the next in the series, one of the signs of a good series. But after a moment I held back and forced myself to wait. I enjoyed the first book too much to run throughout the series, I want to take my time and savor these books as best I can.
]]>Casandra halted and then took a knee so she could look into her daughter’s eyes as she replied, “The Matriarch is sick, Samantha. We are wearing these bands to remind us all of her suffering.”
“Why don’t I have one?”
With a sorrowful smile, Casandra answered, “You’re far too young to be worried about the meaning of these armbands. Now let’s keep going, we have to hurry darling.”
Samantha nodded as her mother stood up and continued their journey to the ship’s hospice ward so they could visit the Matriarch, but the child didn’t understand what that meant. She was just happy to be exploring her home with her mother. It was rare that they spent this much time together and Samantha was reveling in the joy that came with it.
When they reached the hospice ward, Cassandra halted once again and knelt down to look Samantha in the eyes. She then took a breath to settle her nerves and with great gentleness she spoke clearly, “We have to go in and speak with the Helena.”
“Okay mommy,” Samantha said gripping her mother’s hand even tighter.
Casandra smiled and gently squeezed her daughter’s hand in return as she led Samantha into the ward. They walked through a couple of halls until they reached a room with attentive guards. They straightened up and put their hands up commanding Cassandra and Samantha to stop. Once they did the lead guard respectfully demanded, “The child will have to stay here, Casandra.”
Cassandra put her free hand on her hip and tried to object, “She should…”
But the guard interrupted her, “It’s the doctor’s orders.” The guard kept his eyes locked upon Cassandra’s, and Samantha could see the regret that was behind his unrelenting decree.
Samantha was very fond of the Matriarch and wanted to see her, so she looked up to her mother with sorrow dripping from her eyes as she asked, “Mom?”
Seeing the sorrow building in her daughter’s eyes, Cassandra once again went to a knee, but this time she kissed Samantha’s forehead before she answered her daughter’s plea. “I’m sorry little one, but you will have to wait out here for me. I promise we will go somewhere afterward, okay?”
Samantha didn’t understand why she wasn’t allowed to go see the Matriarch, but she looked down at the floor and answered her mother, “I guess so mommy.”
“Thank you, Samantha.” Her mother kissed her forehead once more before she stood and followed the guards into the Matriarch’s private room.
While no one was watching Samantha doubled back deciding to explore the rest of the ward. It wasn’t a large area of the ship, but there were lots of rooms, most were shut, but as she wandered the halls of the hospice ward, she finally came to an open door, so she peeked inside. An elderly woman was laying in the room’s single bio chamber. Samantha stood there looking at the woman until she noticed the child and spoke with a labored effort. “Who are you?”
“My name’s Samantha, what’s your?”
The woman propped herself up a little as she looked at Samantha before answering, “That’s a pretty name, child. Mine is Lucia.”
“That’s pretty too.”
“What are you holding?”
Samantha looked down to the doll in her arm for a moment before she looked back up into Lucia’s pale blue eyes. “It’s my friend, Kristy.”
“That’s another beautiful name, Samantha.” Lucia offered a wry smile as she added, “Is she, my new doctor?”
Samantha laughed as she entered the room holding up her doll in front of her saying, “No, Kristy is my doll.”
With a widening smile, Lucia answered, “I can see that now Samantha.”
Samantha looked around the room before asking, “Where are your family and friends?”
Lucia’s smile dampened slightly answering the child’s innocent question. “I don’t have any family anymore.”
“That’s so sad, but what about friends?”
“There’ll all gone too, Samantha.”
The child walked right up to the woman, “I’m so sorry Lucia.” Samantha looked down at her doll and then back up to Lucia. She lifted Kristy to the edge of the bio chamber offering, “You know I could leave Kristy here with you. She’s a great friend and a perfect listener.”
Lucia smiled at Samantha, “Samantha I couldn’t take your friend from you.”
Samantha placed Kristy next to Lucia saying, “It’s okay, Kristy doesn’t mind, and everyone needs a friend.”
“Which is why I couldn’t take Kristy from you.”
“Please take Kristy, I don’t want my friend to be alone here.”
Lucia smiled a warm and endearing smile, but Samantha didn’t understand why tears were flowing down the elderly woman’s cheek. “What’s wrong? Did I say something wrong?”
“No, Samantha, what you said was perfect.”
“But you’re crying.”
“They are tears of joy, you’ve given me something greater than you will ever know,” Lucia said with love and thanks woven throughout her words.
Samantha smiled as she heard her mother calling for her. She looked up and told Lucia, “I’ll be back tomorrow if I can.”
Lucia hugged Kristy as she spoke to Samantha gently, “Go I’m sure your mother is worried about you.”
Samantha looked away from Lucia for a moment, but she quickly went to her tiptoes and hugged Lucia as she whispered, “I’ll see you again.”
“Thank you,” Lucia whispered as Samantha turned and ran to find her mother.
]]>“Tarian, is it me or is that mass still growing?” Keldon asked once he was standing next to Tarian.
Keeping his eyes fixed on the new threat Tarian replied, “It seems to grow by the second, even though I know it’s not that rapid.”
“I’m glad we built as much of the walls as we did,” Keldon added as he leaned upon the railing in front of them.
“It’s nice to have though I wish we didn’t need it.”
“It bothers you that those things…”
“Yeah, it does bother me. I mean the only way that the results make sense is if someone was making all of these things in a lab.”
“Normally I wouldn’t argue with you Tarian,” Keldon said somberly.
“Normally?”
“Yeah, but Sherry who is very good at using her scanners swears that there is no possibility of any kind of lab on this planet.”
Turning to face Keldon Tarian asked his friend directly, “Then how do you explain that these Ogres are based on the DNA of our missing people?”
“I can’t explain it. Have you changed your mind on letting the rest of the colonists know about that?”
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“Frank, you saw the same thing I did,” Rebecca answered with the same emotions of a stone.
“Rebecca, this…”
She spun to face her partner shoving a finger into his face as she continued on without a hint of emotion. “Frank, we found him drenched in blood kneeling over the victim.“ She closed her eyes as she grimly concluded, “My past relationship with him won’t be relevant.”
Frank rubbed his eyes before exclaiming, “You know it will, just like you know you can’t be the one to arrest him. We need to report it then babysit while we wait for someone else to do it.”
Turning her back on her partner her now seething eyes stared at Gregory, but she finally relented muttering, “Fine call it in.”
Frank watched as Rebecca stalked back to the crime scene, but he picked up his radio and made the report and requested another car, to arrest the weeping Gregory. However, before the requested officers could arrive a nondescript car parked and a middle-aged and athletically built man got out. With a harrumph, Frank walked over and put his hands upon the man as he ordered, “I’m sorry sir, you’re going to have to leave.”
The man watched as Rebecca led Gregory into the car and calmly said, “I’m afraid I have a client over there.”
Frank looked where the man pointed and asked, “Lawyer?”
“No, I’m with Insight Investigations.” The man said as he promptly proffered his credentials, “And he has a right to hire me to investigate this alleged crime.”
“Leave,” Frank ordered after glancing at the license.
“Since you haven’t actually arrested him yet, I believe I’m allowed to offer him my services. And you should probably keep your partner from stuffing him in that car unless you’re going to arrest him after all.”
“Fine,” Frank said with annoyance, and turning to look at Rebecca he cried, “Don’t put him in the car, we’re waiting, and he has a guest.”
The private eye closed the distance and waited until he was alone with Gregory to speak. “I’m Kyle Rickman, Insight Investigations.”
“Never heard of you.”
“This would be my first case.”
“So why help me?” Gregory asked with his head hanging.
“I could hear your pleas, and I know the voice of an innocent man.”
“They don’t believe me, and I couldn’t pay you,” Gregory said dejectedly.
“We can work out those details later, tell me what happened.”
“I proposed, Veronica said yes and then I was rendered unconscious until they came.”
“Nice summary,” Kyle began before he looked back at Rebecca and idly said, “It seems that she…”
“Rebecca.”
Kyle’s head spun around instantly as he asked, “You know her?”
“She’s an ex…”
“Bad breakup?”
“It certainly wasn’t civil.”
“No wonder, her partner insisted on another officer arresting you,” Kyle said as he twirled a pen in his hand.
“I didn’t do it.” Gregory insisted.
Nodding the investigator said, “I believe you…”
“Gregory.”
“Then let me see what I can find to clear you.”
“Thank you.”
The investigator walked to the edge of the clock tower and peeked past the yellow tape. While he was taking everything in Rebecca came up and grabbed his shoulder and asked, “What do you think you’re doing?”
Kyle quickly examined Rebecca then answered, “Investigating for my client.”
“Back off!”
With another look at the officer, Kyle asked, “You normally carry a lot of things in your pockets?”
“My pockets are empty, now back off!” Rebecca demanded.
“You know I already showed your partner my credentials, not to mention that I haven’t actually crossed the yellow line. Which means I haven’t done anything I’m not allowed to do.”
With a snarl plastered upon her face, Rebecca threatened, “Don’t pollute the crime scene.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it lass,” Kyle said with a smile and a salute as he resumed his investigation. He examined Veronica despite the distance and the blanket’s obstruction but saw enough. When he was finished, he went over to Rebecca’s partner and asked, “Was anything removed from the body?”
“No.”
Nodding Kyle walked back to Gregory and asked, “Did you put a ring on her finger?”
“Yes,” Gregory said firmly.
Kyle smiled as he turned to watch four officers approaching. With the arrival of the arresting officers, Kyle leaned against the car and spoke over the sirens. “Can you check Rebecca’s right pocket for an engagement ring?”
“What?” Rebecca cried out.
“The ring isn’t on the victim, and there should be.”
“Excuse me?” Rebecca’s partner asked as his hand unconsciously approached his gun.
“Couple that with the slight bulge, it makes me think my client’s engagement ring is in her right pant’s pocket.”
The three officers slowly turned to watch as Rebecca’s hands clapped down upon the pocket as if she were trying to hide it from view.
“Rebecca, turn out your pocket.” One of the new arrivals demanded.
Rebecca began to focus her eyes upon Gregory, as her other hand tightened upon her weapon’s grip. And wetting her lips, Rebecca tried to pull her gun but was tackled to the ground by the newly arrived men, and they quickly subdued her.
As she was secured in their car, Frank walked over and uncuffed Gregory saying, “I’m so sorry.”
“Can I get the ring back?” Frank asked dumbly.
“Of course,” Frank said with a hollow voice as he went to retrieve it.
“Thank you, Kyle,” Gregory said as he emphatically shook Kyle’s hand.
“I’m just doing my job,” Kyle said with joy and sorrow tugging at his heart.
]]>“He is Rylan, and I’ll check to see if he’s ready for you.”
“Thank you,” Rylan said as he took one of the open chairs in front of the secretary’s desk.
Ciara shifted her gaze to the small device next to her main display, and typed something on it and waited. After waiting patiently for another few moments, she must have gotten a response because she looked back over at Rylan saying, “He’s ready to see you now Rylan.“
“Thanks again Ciara,” Rylan said as he entered his counselor’s office. When he closed the door, Rylan looked over at Desmond and greeted the only man on the planet that has routinely been helping him. “Good afternoon, Desmond. How are you doing today?”
“Good afternoon Rylan, please sit down.” Desmond waited until Rylan sat down before venturing a guess as to what brought the technician to seek the counselor out today. “But let me guess you want to know if I’ve had any luck trying to get you included on the crew to investigate Laria.”
“I’m understandably eager to find out if you’ve managed to do it.”
Shaking his head Desmond looked his client in the eye declaring, “Rylan, you do remember that I told you that I couldn’t guarantee you a place on the crew.”
“But you did say that I should be able to join the crew.”
Desmond looked down at his desk and sighed but before Rylan could say anything else the counselor raised a hand silencing his client. “Rylan, I said I would think that the crew would want to bring you along since no one else on the planet is certified to work on the platforms. And it makes sense to bring someone to Laria who could turn help reestablish a connection to the platform network so it can be done as soon as possible.”
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As he examined his surroundings, one of his guards said irately, “Stop eyeballing me.”
“Calvin, calm down and relax.” The steely-eyed leader said as he shifted his gaze away from the man and towards Ezekiel. “Our friend here will answer all our questions.”
Ezekiel mentally chuckled at the lofty words, he had ducked into the Rotunda because a senator was being honored in death. He had managed to secure a few minutes of peace, and had managed to hide the evidence he had collected.
“Now, Ezekiel, please to spare us any further unpleasantness tell me where you hid the flash drive.”
Ezekiel shifted his eyes from the man’s feet to his cold and calculating eyes quipping, “You’re rapidly running out of time.”
One of the guards pulled him up and growled, “So are you.”
“I’ve got all the time in the world,” Ezekiel spoke with confidence.
“You’re zip-tied and unarmed, what makes you think you’re going to walk away from this?” Another of the guards asked.
Ezekiel turned to look at the man as he answered, “Because I’m better than all of you combined.”
The man who was pulling Ezekiel up was preparing to throw a punch when Ezekiel’s hand flew to the man’s holster faster than anyone could see. Ezekiel winked as he pulled the gun and shot the man in the chest, dropping him to the floor. In the echoing silence before anyone else could react, Ezekiel spun pulling the gun from the steely-eyed leader’s holster shooting him in the chest as well.
Ezekiel spun and studied the remaining dozen thugs. Fortunately, once he had been subdued the leader had dismissed two-thirds of their force thinking that fourteen men who were left would be able to handle a secured man. Unfortunately for those remaining, he was better than fourteen, well twelve, armed men.
He leapt over the fallen senator’s coffin, dragging the crest to the floor with him. Ezekiel waited for a pause in the ensuing explosions, then he looked over the coffin and with six well placed rounds half of the remaining thugs fell to the floor. But before he could shift his gaze to the remaining men, explosions announced the oncoming bullets. Ezekiel spun placing his back to the marble of the coffin stand, as he waited for his next opening. While he was waiting, he slipped the crest into his jacket.
Turning around he eased his eyes over the lid of the coffin and caught sight of three men warily approaching him. He dropped to the floor and rolled to the side, once he cleared the obstruction he fired three shots dropping the three approaching men. Without wasting any motions, he dropped the now empty gun as he got his feet under him and began racing for an exit.
As he ducked through the nearest doorway a bullet embedded itself into the door frame sending chips out like shrapnel from a mine. One of those jagged pieces sliced Ezekiel’s cheek, and as the blood began to swell, he turned bringing the second gun he appropriated to bear upon the final man in the room. He squeezed the trigger twice snuffing the sparkle from the eyes of two of the remaining thugs.
“You are certainly good.” The last man cried out.
“You can leave now, I won’t hurt you,” Ezekiel replied hoping the man would accept his arrangement.
The last man in the room walked towards the casket in the middle of the Rotunda, with great care saying, “If I let you out of here, I won’t make it out myself.”
“Your bosses are about to have bigger fish to fry than you.”
“You making it out won’t hurt them all that much.”
“I know I’ll never be more than an inconvenience to your bosses, but all that incriminating evidence I managed to extract won’t be just a mild irritation.”
“You don’t…”
“Last chance walk away and live.”
The other man tried to dive behind the senator’s final home, but Ezekiel knew what the man would attempt. And so as the man began his last movement, Ezekiel squeezed the trigger, and the bullet started its route. Just before the thug’s head disappeared behind the coffin, the shot ended its fatal journey.
Ezekiel shook his head at the senselessness of all the death before he sought a way out as stealthily as he could. As he was making his escape, he was surprised that the gunfire hadn’t drew security already. But that blessing allowed him to slip out of the building and reach a phone. He quickly called his contact, and in less than fifteen minutes a car was coming towards him.
When it stopped the window was rolled down, and he saw his contact with the press. Ezekiel extracted the flash drive from the crest and asked, “You’re sure you’ll be able to get this to the world?”
“Have I ever let you down Ezekiel?”
“Never Jacob,” Ezekiel answered as he handed over the flash drive.
“Go lay low, you’ve done enough,” Jacob said as he raised his window and sped off into the city to disseminate the information Ezekiel risked his life to retrieve.
]]>I know that I’m still building my presence on Facebook, so I knew going into this that getting an honest opinion would take some time. Though with each and every new blog post that I write and post I do travel to the insights page to see how well it’s doing. And with that knowledge, I knew that I would need to get some more reach to build my reputation. And as if reading my mind Facebook was offering a fifteen dollar credit for boosting a given post. I wanted to make the most of that credit so I held onto it till I had a post that I felt would genuinely benefit from a helping hand.
After writing Jorney of Thanks and getting some feedback from people I completely trusted, I decided that this story deserved to get a broader reach. So I went through the process of boosting the post’s visibility. Multiple people in the broader community of Facebook liked the post, but someone loved it so much that they decided to leave a comment:
When I read that comment I smiled, my work moved someone so much that they decided to share with the world their reaction to my story. And even though I wasn’t feeling all that well for the latter half of last week, when I found the comment on my post the smile returned and I was driven to share the joy that I received with everyone.
]]>If my pre-readers were to attempt to spare my feelings, I wouldn’t be able to craft a well-rounded story in the end. With that in mind, I’m always a little nervous once I hand those readers my manuscripts. Once handed over to those select few, all I can do is wait for them to finish reading the work in question so I can get their opinions and observations. And as I await those priceless thoughts, I find myself flashing back to my youth as I eagerly wait for Christmas morning to arrive so I can rip into all of the presents that are under the decorated Christmas tree or left in and around my stocking by the fireplace.
I have started to receive feedback from my trusted pre-readers. And the feedback I’ve gotten so far has been fantastic, a trend that I expect to continue as I receive the last of my excellent feedback. With each response, I’m getting a clear picture of what needs to be cleaned up and made sharper. And so armed with the concerns and criticisms of my pre-readers, I have already started thinking about how I’m going to incorporate their responses into the next revision of Drawing Thin.
So as I’m entering the final phase of this book’s journey to publication, I’ve realized just how much work will be required so I know that I will have to push back my target publication date by a few months. However, I’m still eager to bring this tale to the world and continue the story I began with Dead Man’s Hand.
So keep an eye here on the blog, for more updates on Drawing Thin‘s journey to publication, including sample chapters. These will be published once I’m finished making all of the changes from my pre-readers.
]]>“Morning,” Lewis replied as he hurried toward his private locker room. The technicians had certainly taken their time examining all of his cybernetics. He sighed as he transitioned into a run, while he admitted that with this particular bull, Lewis would never have been allowed to skip the examination. He just wished that the technicians had been swifter in their examination.
The bull that Lewis was going to ride was named Metalus. It was the only cybernetically enhanced bull in any rodeo, which was the reason he had to have his own cybernetics certified. He was approaching his locker room when he caught sight of his manager waving him down. Lewis slowed to a brisk walk and once he was within arms distance asked, “Everything okay?”
“Where have you been?”
“Getting my exam,” Lewis replied as he waved his metallic arm in front of his manager’s face. The limb wasn’t Lewis’ only cybernetic alteration, it was merely the most obvious.
“That’s right your exam.”
“It’s required, Russell.”
“I know it is, but that doesn’t mean I have to like it,” Russell said argumentatively.
“Is everything ready for my ride?” Lewis asked as he walked into the gym he was using.
Russell followed briskly answering, “Of course it is. Now hurry up, you don’t have a lot of time.”
“I know I’ll be right there,” Lewis said as he started to prepare for his final ride of the competition. This was the first time he was attempting to ride Metalus, of course, he had never considered it until he needed the arm. In fact, to even make an attempt at riding the bull, a rider needed to have cybernetic implants. One of which was required to be an entire limb. While most decided to have at least one of their legs replaced, he had chosen his dominant arm.
He thought it would be the best way to keep himself attached to the bull for the full eight seconds. Though he did have cybernetics embedded into his legs which would help him match any bull’s motions. He wasn’t sure if those would ultimately be able to help him for his ride of Metalus, who had his own implants to buck riders foolish enough to make an attempt.
Once ready he ran to the bucking chute and caught his first glance at his latest challenge. Metalus certainly seemed an apt name for a bull that was more metal than flesh. All of its legs were cybernetic, and it had a glowing red eye centered in the metal that wrapped half of its skull. When they locked eyes, the bull snorted issuing steam from the metallic nostril, forcing a shiver down his spine.
“If you get bucked off, remember to use the safety phrase. Or that will be your next residence.” Russell said as he pointed to the black bag hanging on the outside of the chute.
Another shiver ran down Lewis’ spine as he stared at the body bag. “I’m going to go the full eight seconds.”
“That would make you the second to ever accomplish it, Lewis. I still can’t believe you insisted on this.”
Lewis laughed as he shrugged his way to the chute. “Sometimes I even wonder what I’m thinking about.”
“Be safe, Lewis.”
Lewis nodded and mounted the dangerous bull. Once secured, he looked at the screen and waited for the countdown to begin.
10…
He took a deep breath in through his nose.
9… 8… 7…
He released the breath through his nose slowly.
6… 5… 4… 3…
The bull started to buck in the confines of the shoot.
2…
Lewis’s cybernetic hand tightened upon the rope, and his legs began to squeeze the bull’s side. And he could feel the metal and flesh beneath his legs.
1… 0…
The chute opened, and Metalus rushed from the confines not wasting an instant to try dislodging Lewis.
1…
The cybernetics in Lewis’ legs were working, he could sense all of the subtle motions the bull made and was he was able to match each and every one of those motions.
2… 3…
The bull’s cybernetic legs began to exert more force with each kick, buck, and spin. All the while Lewis’ legs kept up with each motion allowing him to sit with perfect balance upon the bull.
4… 5… 6… 7…
The bull, seemingly knowing that Lewis was about to finish the ride, performed one last buck with all its strength but his legs and cybernetic hand managed to keep him upon the bull. But Lewis knew he needed something else to secure a better score. So he spurred Metalus, just as it bucked he lifted his legs away from Metalus’ side before clamping them back down upon the animal’s side.
8…
The bull stopped moving instantly, and Lewis looked up and saw that he had done it, he had managed to ride Metalus. He looked out into the crowd and smiled as he began to dismount. Russell ran out into the arena with his own wide smile splitting his face.
As Russell clapped Lewis on the back, “You did it, you’ve just become the second person ever to last the full eight seconds.”
“Let’s just wait for my score before we get too excited.”
“We already have a good reason to be excited, Lewis.”
“Shh…” Lewis said as the judges announced their scores for Metalus. The first judge’s score was a nineteen, while the second one scored the animal at twenty-one for a total of forty. Lewis stood and waited for his score. When they eventually came, the first was a twenty while the second was a twenty-two, giving him a score of forty-two.
“Lewis, your ride scored an eighty-two. That beats Hanson’s score of eighty-one.”
Lewis patted Metalus’ rump saying. “That was the best eight seconds of my life.”
]]>One of the interesting aspects of the game is that your character gets an animal companion right from the start. I chose the feline companion, and I came up with the name of Sylvia, I may have used the random name generator though at this point I honestly can’t remember how I chose the name of that companion. As I was playing that very first game, my mind began to seed the beginnings of a story. Looking back at that memory, I want to say that those initial thoughts bore early fruit. I had the idea of a partnership between a mad scientist and inventor and a woman who could assume any feline form she wanted.
It took time for me to craft that initial thought into a proper storyline, but I eventually managed to form a storyline I was happy to call my own. Though once I had that, I needed to decide how I would tell the tale of Harrison & Sylvia. With the storyline building in my mind, I began to think about how I would bring their tale to life. I bounced a few different ideas around in my mind, but I ultimately decided that a collection of short stories would be a fantastic way to explore this story. So I took that initial storyline that was floating in my mind, and I began to craft my collection of short stories.
Off and on over the last five years, I have been working on these stories. Granted the work on Harrison & Sylvia was mostly off but now close to five years after the initial concept I’m close to being finished with them. The stories are currently getting a once-over from a few people so I can have the best stories that I can possibly have. Once they have been reviewed, I’ll be folding in those suggestions into the final work. Then they will be ready for publication, and I already know how I want to publish them. In fact, the reason I chose to use short stories was due to how I wanted to bring them to the world. I’m planning on releasing them on my site over the course of a year, one story every month.
As I publish one of these short stories, I will post a News article linking to it. The accompanying article will include the story’s image and a brief blurb letting people know what to expect. I’m striving to keep to my deadline, which is continually getting tighter, but assuming I’m able to the first installment of Harrison & Sylvia should be ready for posting this coming January. So stay tuned for the adventures that will unfold throughout 2019.
]]>Tarian had immediately ordered the search, but after a long week filled with searching that yielded no results, people were beginning to think that they had been caught by the local wildlife. But Keldon knew the search would continue for a little while longer, no one liked the idea of giving up, but they all knew they could only go on for so much longer. After all the search for raw materials to repair critical components of the ship, was still going on as well and proving just as fruitless.
Keldon pulled out his radio switching it to Tarian’s channel and punched in his code, “Tarian any word from the other search parties.”
“Not yet, Kel. And honestly, if we haven’t found anything by the end of the day…” Tarian’s voice dropped away unable to say the words he knew he needed to.
“I understand. I’ll report back about an hour or two before the sun sets.”
“Leave yourself plenty of time to get back Kel.”
“Always do Tarian. Kel out.” Finished checking in with his captain, Keldon switched back to his team’s channel to hear the tail end of a conversation.
“…found something.”
“Who is this and what did you find?”
“Engrim sir. And I found something odd walking through the forest.”
With a sigh, Keldon brought his hand to his forehead to give it a rub before issuing an order. “Engrim avoids any and all local wildlife, that’s not the purpose of this search.”
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To continue reading the story, click here to head over to Wattpad.
Tully was unsure what he should do, the note had an apartment number, but he was not sure it would do him any good. The ghost looked around the street, but he couldn’t see anyone there, a fact that was more unnerving than even regaining consciousness as a ghost. Tully had been stalking the streets, ignoring the address attached to his hand because the streets of the city that never sleeps should have been teeming with activity. Despite the emptiness, Tully was able to catch glimpses of people as he drifted above the sidewalks. Unfortunately, he had not been able to communicate with any of these people, his guess was because they were alive and he was no longer.
Once he had decided to go to the address, he caught sight of someone, and it had been the last face he had seen. The face had been distorted, kind of like a television filled with static but he had thought it was a woman walking down one of the city’s streets. And for a split second, he thought he recognized her, but the glimpse had been so brief that he had promptly dismissed the thought. Yet now that Tully was loitering in front of the apartment building, it was one of the only ideas circulating around his mind, the other was ‘Why was he here?’ He drowned that he knew, yet here he was able to explore the world around him, in a limited fashion. With a scrap of paper leading him to this very building. Specifically, to an apartment inside its walls.
After a few moments of internal deliberation, Tully decided to get his answers. So he moved his body through the front door of the apartment building, beginning his search for the specified apartment. It took him a while, but Tully eventually found apartment forty-five. He hovered there in the hallway thinking just in front of the door for a while. Finally, glancing down at the note Tully hoped something would be different, but it was not to be. There was nothing special about this door, so again he wondered why he had been directed to this apartment.
He knew he would have to enter the door to get the answers, but it felt wrong entering someone’s home unannounced. Yet the siren song of answers proved too strong for Tully, as he entered the apartment. Upon entering the room, the world became more vibrant to his eyes, as if a sheer piece of lace had been pulled away from his eyes, yet not everything was crystal clear. But with the improved clarity he explored the apartment noticing little things as he went, and what he found made no sense to him. Yet the most startling thing was the newspaper clippings littered upon a desk since he couldn’t move them he read what he could.
From what he could read, the clippings all seemed to center around his death, but that shocked him. He didn’t have any family in the city, there was no one here who should have cared this much about him. Yet there they were, and as he hovered above them, he began to hear voices from farther back in the apartment. So Tully started searching for their source. As he drew closer to the sounds, he caught sight of pictures, with faces just out of focus. Upon reaching the source, Tully looked at the door blocking his path and read the plaque with a single word upon it, Heather. Obsessed with the clarity the name offered he tried to focus upon the conversation beyond the door.
As he listened Tully managed to catch a few words from a deep voice that he didn’t recognize, “…glad… you’re here…”
Then he heard a response as loudly as if the speaker yelled right into his ear yet the voice was the most beautiful and angelic thing he had ever heard. “I love you, daddy.”
Tully was so stunned by the clarity that he almost missed the pair of words that followed from a different feminine voice, “…sweet dreams…”
And once again that trumpeting angelic voice rang in Tully’s ear. “I love you, mommy.”
Tully’s curiosity was too invested in the answer to let a door block him, so he pushed his head through it, and saw a family sitting on a bed. And something must have attracted the little girl’s attention because she instantly looked into his eyes. And like a switch being thrown to illuminate a room, Tully knew who this girl was. It was the girl he had died trying to save, but he hadn’t remembered actually achieving that. Yet here she was alive surrounded by family.
The girl smiled as she stared into his eyes saying, “Thank you.”
Tully’s own smile blossomed wide as he replied, “Your welcome little one.”
With his journey now complete Tully began to fade away, the note that had directed him to this sight fell from his hands to the floor. When he looked down the scrap of paper that had been his silent guide, he no longer saw the address. Instead, he saw five words written in an elegant hand, She lived, thanks to you.
Looking back up Tully caught sight of the girl once more, as her angelic words filled his ears that final time, “Thank you for saving my life.”
]]>No one, aside from the Admiralty, thinks this is a decent idea when Napoleon has a Celestial of his own, but they all know there is nothing to be done about it unless Laurence is able to maintain a pardon from the Governor of Austrailia. So once more Laurence and Temeraire board the Allegience to set sail away from the borders of England, though this time with more of finality to their journey than ever before. Though they are not the only passengers to disembark from England since there is a surplus of eggs in England, there are a fair number of aviators and three dragon eggs accompanying them on this journey. But they are also joined by Iskierka and Granby because Iskierka wants to have an egg by Temeraire seeking an offspring that has both the divine wind and can breathe fire. Fortunately for the story, they arrive at such a time that they have to be allowed to accompany Temeraire for the entire journey. They are also ultimately joined by Captain Jeremy Rankin, who will be allowed to attempt to harness one of the dragons. He eventually is able to harness the first dragon to hatch, the freshly hatched dragon names himself Ceaser, and it becomes rapidly apparent that the dragon’s ego is a perfect match to Rankin’s own bloated ego.
Rankin’s presence is a cause of great consternation for Laurence since Rankin is still as pleasant as he ever was and he still sees Laurence as the traitor he is. Yet Laurence is able to take this new problem in stride, though it only is a new addition to his problems since the governor had been deposed and had forced himself upon the Allegience and is now seeking aid from anyone to put him back into power. Between a rock and a hard place, Laurence takes the suggestion from Macarthur, one of the leaders of the coup, to find a pass through the mountains. While this definitely takes himself and the other aviators away from the power struggle they eventually find things that are just as delicate on their journey. One of the first problems that arise is that the yellow reaper egg is stolen away from them. They also have to deal with the local creatures that inhabit the land and the harsh elements all while seeking those who stole the egg right from under their noses.
The growth of Temeraire and Laurence continues in a very natural and beautiful way during the events of Tongues of Serpents. Laurence begins to wonder if he needs what he had lost and begins to wonder if he and Temeraire could settle down in this new land. While Temeraire also begins to contemplate what his own life will become, and of course he had taken all the eggs under his protection. He sought to protect them all from anyone he saw as unworthy.
While the story is removed from the events that all of the previous books centered around, the Napoleonic War, it is still a magnificent story that expands upon this wonderfully crafted alternate world where dragons exist and are an increasing part of the day to day life of everyone.
]]>The technician knew that the only way he would be able to find out what happened would be to participate in the meeting. Unfortunately for him that required him to be present, his voice would not be heard if he didn’t show up. The rest of the population was not expected to be there, they had other options to be able to cast their vote. While the charges had been dismissed the officials wouldn’t let him register himself as a citizen. It would seem that while the law proclaimed him innocent, this world’s officials still considered him a demented criminal.
With determination, he had been able to discover the time and place for the meeting, though he ultimately had to find his advocate for the information. He went to the municipal center and had gone to a large conference room reserved for these types of deliberations. He sat down and towards the back of the room and listened as the debate started in earnest. The leader for each side of the issue got up and argued their point.
The leader of the front to isolate the planet from the rest of the remnants of the Federation was a passionate woman named Aidan. She made some logical arguments to keep the world separated from the rest of the galaxy. That fact that worried Rylan especially since the Brody, the man arguing for the investigation of Laria was not supporting his point nearly as well. Rylan wanted to get up and make his own passionate argument for the inquiry, but he had learned enough to know that once those two finished their debate the floor would be opened up for anyone to voice their own opinions.
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To continue reading the story, click here to head over to Wattpad.
Currently, though the twins were busy working on their way to a keynote speech for an up and coming company they had heard exciting whispers about when their path was blocked. The man who blocked the path had a thick British accent and was dressed as a butler, right down to the serving tray. A tray that was carrying fancy glasses filled with what appeared to be champaign. The butler proffered his burden asking a question without seeming to move his lips, “Would either of you like a drink?”
Jemma shook her head and answered for both, “No thank you, sir.”
The man narrowed his eyes every so often as he tilted his head sideways as he backed away from the fraternal twins. When the man finally turned around the twins shared a brief look before the resumed their search for the conference room for the keynote speech they were looking for. After a few more minutes of searching, they found themselves staring at a dead end. They turned around hoping to find someone they could ask for help finding the speech, but instead of support, they discovered that odd butler without the tray.
Cocking his head and once more without seeming to move his lips the butler asked, “Can I do anything else for the two of you?”
The twins looked at each other each and saw a mirrored look of confusion and nervousness. The man was not imposing, but there was something about his demeanor that struck a nerve with the twins. After an awkward moment of silence, Charles replied for them both, “We’re just looking for a conference room, but we’ll manage. Thank you though.”
After another long moment of silence, the twins tried to walk past the butler, but he blocked their path with arms as unyielding as steel beams. The two stepped away from the creep watching as the butler smiled and for the first time showed his pointed teeth for the twins. They immediately backed up even farther from the man who filed his teeth, but their spines shivered as they heard a growl escape from the butler’s elongating mouth. “Please feel free to run as I prepare for the chase.”
The man’s clothes began to shred as his body expanded gaining length and bulk. The tips of his fingers started to lengthen forming into talons. He dragged those talons across the floor, each slicing through the carpet and concrete beneath their feet with ease. Once he appeared to be finished the thing crouched down, and immediately leapt for them arms outstretched. The twins dropped to the floor as the former butler sailed over them carving grooves along both walls.
The twins frantically flipped over and witnessed the grace of that creature as it landed and fluidly spun to face them. As it locked an eye upon each twin, it growled as it spoke with a distorted voice, “Run for me.”
The twins scrambled to their feet and fled. Fear pumped through their bodies and drove them away from that creature as it counted. “One. Two. Three…”
They ran until they could no longer hear that distorted voice, and somehow found themselves returning to the vast show floor, and that was when they realized they were alone. They looked at each other and asked, “What now?”
Charles looked around the hall quickly and caught sight of an emergency exit and pointed at it whispering, “There!”
They ran to their salvation, but the bar to open the door wouldn’t budge, eliciting a squeal from Jemma. “What now?”
“You die!” cried the unnatural voice as the creature stepped into the empty show floor.
The twins spun around and saw the creature disappear from where it was to reappear in front of them. Charles frantically looked around for something to use to defend them and caught sight of a fire axe. He raced for it hoping he could reach it before the thing attacked either of them. Unfortunately just as he went for it, the creature lunged at Jemma. She dropped, but unfortunately, the creature’s talons struck her shoulder pinning her to the wall.
A scream of pain sprung from Jemma’s mouth which propelled her brother’s fist through the glass protecting the axe. As his fist went through the glass lacerating his fist. As blood flowed from his hands, he ripped the axe from its container turning to see the creature’s other talons running along the top of his sister’s leg slicing her skin, letting her own blood spill out. Charles took a single step towards the creature and brought the axe down at its neck. The blow connected solidly splitting the creature in two like a hot knife splitting a stick of butter.
With so much force behind Charles’ strike, the axe struck before the collapsing body, and its talons were pulled out of Jemma’s shoulder eliciting a fresh scream. Charles let go of the embedded axe rushing to his sister’s side, immediately applying pressure to her shoulder wounds as he inspected her leg wounds.
Charles screamed as someone squeezed his shoulder asking, “Is she okay?”
Charles turned around and saw a room full of people just past the inquiring security guard, as he pleaded, “Yes, we were attacked.”
The man looked down at the body and swallowed the baseball sized lump that had formed in his throat. “Medical personnel are on their way. Hopefully, both of you will be alright.”
“Thank you.” The twins replied with sighs of relief.
]]>Now Mr. Power makes some points. However, they are based purely upon the content of the fantasies that are prevalent in the world today. Unfortunately, I have to argue with his premise, it is far too simplistic of a view. To merely make this determination based solely upon the content inside of the covers of various books. Yes, I will agree that today’s fantasies are predominantly filled with flawed characters that would be lost trying to find their way through Middle Earth, at least compared to Tolkien’s iconic paragonic characters.
It just does not matter for this topic. The reason Tolkien is considered to be the father of modern fantasy has nothing to do with the content of fantasies. The question Mr. Power should have asked was why are fantasies so popular today? Back around the time, Tolkien introduced the world to the fictional land of Middle Earth fantasy was a far less mainstream genre than it is today. A point Mr. Powel himself made in his article:
“Tolkien may overshadow other fantasy writers in name recognition, and his high-handed purity and saintly protagonists may define fantasy in the popular imagination.”
– Mr. Ed Powel
The very paragonic characters that Mr. Powel dismisses as nonexistent in modern fantasy paved the way for the various storytellers and authors that came after. The reason J.R.R. Tolkien is the father of modern fantasy is that he captured the world’s imagination and wonder with those characters and tales. He inspired the countless others who followed to reach into their imagination and craft their own stories whether they were drawing upon those races from Middle Earth or not.
This simple fact is J.R.R. Tolkien is considered by many, even Wikipedia, to be the father of modern fantasy. And contrary to Mr. Powel’s opinion it has nothing to do with happens on each of the pages, and everything to do with how popular the genre became after his works were brought into the world.
]]>The team members who had been tasked with determining if their last hope would be able to forge out into the vastness of the ocean had reported that the vessel was, in fact, seaworthy. The last room in the grand search was the ship’s galley, a task that had fallen to the last remnant of Ray’s team. The marine looked at his two remaining members who hadn’t been stationed at another part of the ship to ensure that there was no sign of trouble and waited for their nods to his unasked question. Once they gave it, he waited for the member on his right to position himself so he could open the door. When ready Ray nodded to his fellow marine, Charles opened the door, and once it was just open, Ray kicked the door wide open as he shoved his rifle into the room.
The room, just like everywhere else on the ship, was dark but Ray had grown so accustomed to the darkness that he was able to track a bit of motion in the back of the galley. And instinctively the grizzled marine pulled his rifle to his shoulder and controled his breathing as he squared the rifle’s sights upon that motion before he squeezed the trigger. The bolt of pale blue energy flew from the barrel of his rifle and bathing the room in a pale blue glow for just an instant. Unfortunately, in that instant the light was more than enough for Ray to see the vastness of the infestation in the galley.
The room was full of the creatures that had devastated humanity. Those things were monsters of humanity’s own creation and the fact that those beasts were made while trying to find cures for a wide array of diseases ultimately didn’t matter. These creatures were mishappened, but they were not the lumbering hulks they appeared to be instead they were dangerously fast and exceptionally strong. Thankfully their rifles were just the weapons needed to put these monsters down. As the bolt that flew from Ray’s rifle was racing through the galley the marine watched as it impacted the beast that had pulled Ray’s eyes towards it.
As the light dissipated and the creature was falling to the floor, Ray was able to hear the motions from the rest of the infestation. He immeadiately cleared the doorway crying out, “Light’em up we have a nest!”
Without argument, the other two marines pulled their own rifles to their shoulders and squeezed their triggers as quickly as they could move the ends of their weapons upon the coming targets. Bolt after bolt of pale blue light poured into the doorway, lighting up the galley and their portion of the hallway. Ray could see as each of the creatures turned and tried to force its way out of the confined galley. And as each attempted to make that journey through the doorway a bolt from one of the three rifles would pierce the creature forcing it to fall upon the floor.
There were so many of these creatures that as each of the three marines depleted their rifles power cell, the quickly and efficiently swapped it out for a fresh one. Each kept firing until they were down to their last cell. Once they all stopped shooting Ray pulled out a small sphere from his belt and pressed its single button. He released the button and counted to two before he tossed it into the galley. The sphere hung in mid-air and began to glow like a miniaturized sun.
Now that the galley was well lit with its own personalized star Ray was able to see everything in the room as clearly as if they were outside, after adjusting to the bright light. The three marines stood in the hallway and waited for something in the galley to move. After waiting for what felt like an hour, Ray took a tentative step towards the room and pulled out a handheld periscope to see if any creatures were still hiding just inside the doorframe. Thankfully when Ray looked through his invaluable tool, he saw that there wasn’t a single creature still standing.
Ray put the periscope into his pocket and readied his rifle as he took his first step into the galley. Of course, that was when one of the creatures made a lurching motion which prompted Ray to fire at its middle. The creature fell forward knocking an item from the table flinging it at Ray. When it struck the floor, Ray bent over and carefully lifted the object but managed to keep his men from seeing it.
“Ray, what was that?” Kevin asked.
“It was a stragaler, Kevin,” Charles answered.
“I know what the creature was!” Kyle quipped before he asked Ray, “What was that thing that flew towards you?”
Ray lifted the object above his head answering, “Its a whisk.”
“A whisk?” Charles asked.
Ray laughed as he dropped the metallic whisk to the floor as he carefully examined the remains of the bodies that were scattered around the galley’s floor. After an intensive examination of the remains, Ray opened his radio to the global channel. “We have a lot of cleanup to get done here, but we are good to get our ride off the mainland and to safety.”
]]>Once I delved into the details, I was greeted with a movie that made me excited about the third book in a series that I had never read before. Then I began to scroll down and read the details, and I was drawn even further selections of the previous works and the sample pages from the upcoming book. It was enough to keep me going reading through the reviews and the pledges. I ultimately decided to pledge ten dollars to this project, the level I chose will get me a copy of the three books letting me get the whole origin of Jonathin Quackup.
Then I went back to his list of projects and gave a cursory overview of those projects. And those previous projects all looked exciting, so I took a step back and opened a new browser and googled Raymond Mullikin. I found among other things the Facebook page for Raytoons and the company’s online store. From what I saw on all of these pages I am eagerly waiting to get my hands on these first three stories, and I will review them as I read them.
Please take some time to delve into the Jonathin Quackup and think about pledging something to his campaign.
]]>A small man, walking stiffly trying not to spill his food, approached their booth. Without asking he sat down next to the father saying, “I hate to interrupt, but I couldn’t help overhearing your conversation and unfortunately for you sir she is correct unicorns do exist.“
The father looked down his shoulder speaking firmly, “You shouldn’t barge into someone’s table like that.”
The stranger ignored the rebuke and spoke to the little girl, “Not only do they exist but so do numerous other creatures.”
The father looked at his daughter and saw that she was becoming mesmerized by this stranger’s words. So he elbowed the stranger commanding, “Leave us alone we’re trying to enjoy our meal.”
The stranger grunted standing up from the booth. After retrieving his meal, he spun around and left muttering something under his breath.
The father watched the interloper leave, then turned to look at his daughter saying, “I’m sorry about darling.”
“No worries, dad.” The little girl replied as she watched the man disappear around a corner of the restaurant.
The father smiled at his daughter and then felt the air around him thicken, prompting him to look up from his daughter. He saw the interior of The Noodle Shop begin to grow and expand and shook his head with shock as he saw the windows fade from view. As the proportions stretched out, he looked at his daughter and saw fear creeping into her face.
As his daughter’s fear rose, she looked at her father and shadowed beings grabbed him whisking him away. Without thinking, she leaped from the booth trying to grab hold of her father, but her fingers just missed him, and she fell upon the floor that had begun sprouting grass.
She lay there crying when something began nuzzling at her head. She whipped her head up hoping to see her father but instead saw a majestic unicorn. If her father had been there with her, she would have squealed with joy, but instead, she dropped her head muttering, “My father was taken.”
“I know little one,” The unicorn replied with an angelic voice.
Sniffling, the little girl, looked up, “Do you know where he is?”
“I do child, and the wizard who took him will not easily relinquish what he has taken.”
“Can you help me?” The little girl pleaded as she slowly began to stand.
The unicorn shook her head answering, “I will not be able to help you on my own child.” With those words, tears began to well up around the girl’s eyes. Before they could flow the unicorn looked down offering, “Though I do have friends that might be able to help us rescue him. Come climb on my back and hold my neck tightly.”
The little child followed her directions, once settled the unicorn began to speed through the partially transformed restaurant. They passed by numerous tables and booths as they sought the unicorn’s friends. They collected a wise and fierce wolf, a silent and noble stag and a bold and stoic bear.
Each consented to help the child rescue her father and the party quickly made its way to the wizard’s sacred grove, located in the heart of the endlessly forested Noodle Shop, once its kitchen. Towards, what should be the center of the kitchen the tile there seemed to have been partially transformed to sand. She saw her father tied to a steel beam inside of a circle of stones and small pots.
Those shadowed figures who had taken him and the stranger who had interrupted their meal were circling her father. That man was no longer dressed in the baggy clothes that hid him, and she could see what he was. Pulling from her mythology, he was a satyr. She whispered to the unicorn, “What are they doing?”
“They are preparing the ritual to transfer your father’s essence to the wizard.” The wolf answered for the unicorn.
“How can we save him?” The frightened child asked voice full of pleading.
“We can fight off the satyrs outside of the circle, but the wizard will stay to try and complete his ritual. You need to disrupt his circle. If you do that he will be dispersed.” The bear said with his lyrical voice.
“Get down from my back, and I will do my best to keep whatever magic the wizard can do away from you. We will follow your lead in this child.” The unicorn said kindly.
The child climbed down from the unicorn’s back and without thinking she ran towards the circle. Her newfound friends true to their word forced the shadowed satyrs away while the unicorn did what she could to shield the child. Her fingers found an exposed handle of one of the pots. Wrapping her fingers around it, she began to pull with all her might, yet somehow it wouldn’t budge. Reaching deep into herself she found strength she didn’t know she had and pulled.
And as the Satyr was launching for her, the pot gave way, and she flew back falling onto the sandy tiles. Then light washed over everything as a great boom filled the world, and the daughter fell into unconsciousness.
When she woke up, she found that she was sitting in the booth with her father and on her lap were a pair of pale blue mittens, like nothing had happened. Those mittens had images of the unicorn and her friends that had helped her, picking them up she found that they were angelically soft. As she looked up at her smiling father and knew that everything would be alright.
]]>“Declan, the colony is just about finished how goes placing the platform?”
Declan looked up from the platform’s glowing red center with dread pouring visibly from his face. “Brielle, we have a problem.”
Brielle looked from the worried platform technician to the glowing red crystal next to his knees, and she began to take on his concern. “Declan, these platforms don’t have issues.”
Swallowing the lump that formed in his throat, Declan looked up and explained, “There’s only a single reason why the crystal glows red, and we all know what it is.”
“Stay here, Declan,” Brielle commanded as she nodded her head. She abruptly spun away from Declan and raced off towards the captain of the colonization ship.
She raced through the corridors as fast as she could, and she just managed to avoid all of the tight corners and the occasional colonist roaming the halls. She ran until she eventually came to the new colony’s civic center. The captain always worked from there while they established a new world for the Federation.
Once she found the right doors, she paused outside so she could catch her breath. When she was able to breathe naturally, she opened the door, and her eyes immediately found the captain. She walked up to him and reported her dire news. “Captain Quinn, something has happened to the homeworld.”
Confusion settled into the captain’s face with her words prompting him to ask, “Brielle, what are you going on about?”
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To continue reading the story, click here to head over to Wattpad.
As the platform room began to flood with people, Rylan was trying to get in touch with any of the Larian planets. He was trying to adjust the communications device to contact another world when he was immediately placed under arrest. It took a moment for Rylan to process what was happening to him, but once his mind caught up Rylan tried to insist that the platform hadn’t been sabotaged and something serious had occurred back on Laria. As he was being led away, he heard some of the officials mention that so far they hadn’t been able to contact any planets in the federation. Of course, the technician had some inkling of why that was the case, it was the only reason why the platform would flash with that crimson color.
As Rylan sat in a jail cell, he had been assigned an advocate, who promptly joined him in his cell asking the question as he began forming a defense for his client. As Rylan answered each of his advocates question the technician became more annoyed at the situation. But when the advocate asked about the platform’s color and Rylan informed him that it was crimson. He looked up from his notes with shock in his face. The advocate asked if he was Rylan was sure about the color and Rylan confirmed that it was crimson.
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To continue reading the story, click here to head over to Wattpad.
From what I heard after the fact Sam Rami did not want to do the movie with Venom and after hearing that it makes total sense. That rendition of Venom was terrible, and I remember being so disappointed with how he was treated. But that was then, and now we are being treated to a new live-action movie centering around Venom that was released to theaters in the United States on October 5th.
In Marvel’s wider world Venom is not always the villain, in fact, there are times when he is aa anti-hero similar to the Punisher. And they certainly used those arcs when they designed this movie. Now while I cannot speak to how well the film paid tribute to those story arcs, but I can talk to how the movie altered Venom’s origin. There is no Spider-Man in this movie. None. Nada. Zitch. A big old Goose Egg. Now with that being said, Eddie Brock was still a journalist that was disgraced and was ultimately doing it to try and protect people. In fact, that is Eddie Brock’s motivation during the film, his desire to help those who need it.
Now while it was hard to go into the movie knowing that there would be no wall-crawling hero to spurn the symbiote, I am glad I was able to get myself to the theater. There are some shortcomings to the underlying story such as the critical points from the beginning of the movie being discarded halfway through the film. And then there is the way Riot makes his way to the Life Foundation, it is a little deus ex machina for me, but it did its job bringing to the story to its climax.
But to me, this movie will live and die by how well people receive Venom’s portrayal. Again remember Spider-Man 3, Venom was given the shaft, and people are still very bitter about that about eleven years later. But with Venom, the titular character was captured perfectly. His look was spot on and exactly what I was hoping for, minus the iconic white spider logo. Look check, but the look will only bring Venom so far his personality and character are equally as necessary, and I thought the film delivered them in an absolutely beautiful way.
Ultimately I think the best way to describe the film is a comedic buddy movie1 with a single actor. A combination I wouldn’t have expected going into the movie but one I fully appreciated when I left. Overall I have to say I enjoyed Venom despite the poor early reviews of the critics.
]]>When Victory of Eagles begins Laurence and Temeraire have been separated, Laurence is imprisoned while Temeraire is detained in the breeding grounds. The only reason why Laurence wasn’t hung was so that Temeraire would remain in the breeding grounds. Temeraire is utterly bored and has no desire to do any of the matings that the keepers of the breeding ground want him to do, and he is only roused from his boredom when a regal copper tries to force him out of the cave that he had taken the time to make elegant. He eventually takes time to make connections with some of the more influential dragons in the breeding grounds, and when he hears of Laurence’s demise when the French sunk the ship, he was imprisoned on, leads the other dragons to go attack the french that had invaded Britton.
Temeraire successfully leads multiple assaults against some of the French troops, and the leaders of the regular British military seek to give the leader of the victorious militia a field commission. Once they discover that they have given Temeraire the commission they slowly and begrudgingly begin to follow Napoleon’s example bring the aerial corps indeed into the military rather than using them as an afterthought.
With each novel in this series, both Temeraire and Laurence have had dire struggles that they needed to overcome, and Victory of Eagles is no different as each manages to grow after dealing with their own conflicts. Temeraire’s growth in this story revolves around the realization of what their actions from Empire of Ivory had cost both him and Laurence, though he also takes hold of his opportunity to become a true leader of dragons in Brittan, thanks to the rank he had been given. Of course, he has to learn about taking admonition when he does something wrong, which he does try to take to heart. Meanwhile, Laurence is having to reconcile what he did with the feelings he has now that he sees the consequences of having spared the french ariel force. This struggle flows throughout the entire novel, and he has little to lift his spirits as he discovers how hard his nation is being persecuted.
Victory of Eagles is another excellent installment in this Napoleonic era series, and it was fantastic seeing this pair of characters grow and blossom from their deepest depressions.
]]>Of course, as a result of the crash, some of the more delicate equipment had not survived the landing like the communications array as well as some of the medical equipment. And to make matters worse the parts that had broken would take time to replace of course they would have to find the raw materials first, and to date, they had not seen any of the needed materials.
He lifted his radio, one of the few that still worked and called into the base camp, “How are things back at home?”
“Same as before, we’re waiting for some fresh supplies. Have you had any luck on that front?”
Tarian took a small sip from his cantine before he looked other the other members of his little party. They were all busy categorizing the native animal and plant life, “Well we’re definitely finding the local wildlife but as far finding supplies I’m not so sure about that.”
“Rodger that, Tarian.”
“Have any of the other parties had more luck?” Tarian asked his voice overflowing with hope.
“At this point Tarian I think all the parties are having the same results as your group.” The voice said wryly.
With a sigh, Tarian responded to the man’s comment, “Yeah that’s what I thought. Alright, we’ll be back once we’ve finished the inventory of our sector.”
Tarian turned the volume down on the radio and took another look at the wildlife that his team was examining. Some of the animals he had seen looked just like what he was used to, while some like some of the wolves they had seen were almost as large as their surviving horses. And then there were those that seemed to be inspired by legends and myths. He had seen several animals that were a strange mixture of animals from their homeworld, yet the most memorable was the one that seemed to be a peculiar yet purposeful cross of an eagle and a lion.
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To continue reading the story, click here to head over to Wattpad.
“You know I’m a little surprised at your skill level, Gerard.”
“I’m sure its just beginners luck,” Gerrard said with a warm smile. After a moment he ever so slightly tightened his grip upon Felicia as he whispered into her ear, “It also helps that I have the best teacher in the world.“
Felicia’s face reddened with the whispered words, she leaned her head upon his shoulder inquiring, “Gerard, there is no way this is your first lesson. How long have you danced?”
Gerard let his head gently rest upon hers as he guided them along the studio’s floor, among the countless reflections bouncing among the mirrored surfaces. Gerard breathed in letting the various scents fill him, he lingered upon the smell of watermelon coming from her hair. Closing his eyes, he whispered, “I haven’t danced like this in quite some time, Felicia.”
“So you have graced a dance studio before?” Felicia asked as her lips curled up forming a playful smile.
“When I was much younger, but that was quite some time ago,” Gerard answered as he pulled her closer into him as the glided effortlessly across the floor.
“So why did you put your name into the drawing for the lesson?”
“Honestly,” Gerard began with a smile forming on his own face. “I thought winning the drawing would be the simplest way to ensure an evening with you.”
“Gerard!” Felicia exclaimed as her cheeks took on a deep scarlet coloring.
He stopped their dance and lifted her chin up with his hand so he could look into her pale blue eyes, so striking as the light from above stuck them. He studied those eyes for a moment before he spoke with immense care, “I didn’t think you would say yes if I just came up and asked you for an evening like this.”
“Well Gerrard, I can say you were probably right before.” Felicia bit her lip as her cheeks began to blossom with a hint of rose as she whispered, “Though I think you would find me open to another night like tonight.”
“I would yearn for another night like this with you, Felicia,” Gerard spoke with eyes holding sorrow that marked his words true yet showed there was something that would keep them from becoming true.
“You speak as if we will never get another night together.”
“We will not be able to have a night like this for some time, Felicia.”
“Why? Are you just visiting?”
With a sorrowful smile, he pulled her closer to him as he whispered into her ear, “Yes I am simply a visitor for the day.”
“Well, when do you have to leave?”
Gerard loosened his grasp and looked at his hand before giving his answer, “I believe our lesson is just about finished.”
“We can keep our evening going.” Felicia immediately answered with desire evident.
Gerard took her hand in his and brought them back into the dance before he corrected her assumption with sorrow overflowing each word. “Felicia, we cannot. I was granted a precise amount of time.”
“Why can’t you go over?”
With a sorrowful sigh, he answered, “Because I’m on borrowed time. I died three years ago, having never gathered the courage to speak with you.”
As Gerard’s words are heard Felicia stumbles slightly, she only managed to keep her feet with Gerard’s help/ “That’s not funny Gerard.”
“Look at my hand.”
Felicia glanced over to her left hand and saw that his fingers were slowly fading away. “But…”
“Let’s enjoy the remaining time we have.”
“How?” Felicia managed to squeak.
“I was given an opportunity, and I seized it,” Gerard answered as he pulled her into him and kissed her. As they stood there sharing the passionate embrace, she could feel his lips beginning to fade. Felicia pulled him into her, and he immediately responded tightening his grip upon her. As the embrace continued, she began to feel her arms collapse through him. Losing her balance Felicia fell forward she attempted to break her fall, but her head hit the floor.
She looked up catching Gerarde’s face as it faded, once he had vanished entirely as she sees herself in the mirror. She watched the single drop of blood as it traveled from her left nostril to her upper lip. As the drop of blood began to well up threatening to fall, her tears began to flee from her eyes and some began to follow that drop of blood’s path. When the tears started to collide with the blood on her lip, the blood was dislodged from her mouth. And it began it’s journey from her lip to her studio’s floor and when it impacted Felicia could hear it’s earth-shattering splash in the once silent and now empty room.
]]>After I finished looking into NYC Midnight, I found that they did a lot of different types of contest other than flash fiction. Though I was, and still am, entirely focused on the flash fiction competition they put on every year. According to their website, this is a yearly competition, and including this year, this is the 10th competition they have held. I read through a lot of the feedback, and it seemed that everyone who participates enjoys the process. I even looked at the prizes that are awarded to the top twenty writers in the event, and they all captured my attention.
Unfortunately, I discovered the competition too late to join it this year, but I was immediately drawn to the challenges that are inherent to the competition. If you are interested in reading the full rules for the 2018 competition click here. Needless to say I read the PDF and I as I went through the document my desire began to grow from the warm fuzzy feeling I originally had.
With the competition being about flash fiction I expected word count of one thousand words, but I was intrigued by some of the other limitation, or rather constraints that the author was placed under. The first being the genre for the entry, it’s primary location and an object required to make an appearance. Once the author receives these constraints, they have up to forty-eight hours to fashion their entry.
Since I started delving into the flash fiction format, I fully appreciated just how well these constraints can breed creativity. In fact, it wasn’t until I fully understood the limitations that I started to read some of the previous winning stories including the one for 2017. The entry more than anything else stoked my desire into a full-blown blazing bonfire of excitement.
I will definitely participate in the competition in 2019, but I will train for the competition in the meantime. One of the testimonials talked about how the first round was like a marathon so like a marathon runner I will prepare. As I wait for the competition to start in 2019, I will be posting flash fiction stories on my blog following the rules for the 2018 competition. I will be getting random genres, locations, and an object and using those combinations to craft unique and hopefully compelling tales, in order to flex my muscles as a storyteller.
]]>A greater help to that is the linking of liberties for dragons to abolitionist movement when Laurence’s father introduces the pair to William Wilberforce, a devout proponent to the abolitionist cause. In fact, Temeraire, helps to design one of the first social events to help strengthen the cause and when the society of England is brought to the area Temeraire is eventually tolerated, and things turn out wonderfully. Unfortunately, the two of them are removed from future events when Temeraire falls into the quarantined longwings with a French dragon and the two of them are instantly isolated, though now Laurence has been brought to his greatest depression the eventual death of his closest friend. Everyone is convinced that Temeraire has been infected and they strive to have him mate with another dragon to produce an egg while he is able to.
But after enough time had passed and Temeraire had shown no signs of the sickness, he is examined and pronounced to be unaffected by the virulent illness that has ravaged every other dragon exposed to it. Thinking back they remember Temeraire had a cold, though now they believe it this deadly disease, but recovered on the coast of Africa so Temeraire’s shipmates are loaded upon the dragon transport the Allegience, and they set off to heal not only the formation but the whole of the corps. While there many things about the unexplored interior of the continent, bot of the people and the once thought feral dragons. Certainties once held to so fiercely are bludgeoned out of their mind once encountered.
The choices that the crews of the formations must make are hard ones, but they have a set goal and are unwavering in their dedication to that goals completion. We are shown just how deeply the men and women are connected to their dragons, both in the search for the cure and in the wake of the disease. Those who have lost their once magnificent companions are mear shells of their once proud selves. Much like parents who lose a child, none would have ever thought it possible for the dragons to perish before them when their lifespans are so much more significant than theirs. This entry in the Temeraire series to me has been the most thought-provoking both in the main plot and equally as important its subplots and ties to the readers. As a father, I can see myself in the place of some of these captains who are in danger of losing or who have lost their dragons.
Empire of Ivory is a fantastic story that establishes new moral dilemmas for Laurence and Temeraire and entertains from beginning to end.
]]>He looked around and saw Jalvi. “Hello Jalvi, what’s the local time?”
“You know this exchange gets tiresome Rylan.” The gruff woman said before she looked at the clock on the wall above her. “It’s the beginning of the day. You know I only work mornings.”
Rlyan enjoyed the banter and replied, “Can you turn the platform off?”
“Sure there’s no one scheduled to come in till later on in the day.”
Rylan stayed right where he was and waited for Jalvi to disengage the platform. It took a couple of moments, but the slight hum that was usually always present began to die away as the lights spilling out from under the platform started to dim. Once the platform was powered off, he climbed back on the platform and went to the hatch in the middle and quickly opened it.
He reached into the opened door and placed his hands around the platform’s core interface. He twisted the interface until he could lift it out of the platform. With the core in hand, he walked off of the platform and placed it down next to Jalvi’s desk.
“You know I get nervous every time you disconnect the thing.”
With a stunned expression, Rylan looked down at her and asked, “Why? Techs like me do this with every platform everytime we need to do any maintenance. Its the only way to keep it from being connected to during an update which would be catastrophic.”
“I understand the reasoning behind why you do it, but it doesn’t change the fact that I get nervous when you disconnect it.” She replied her voice still gruff and stiff.
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To continue reading the story, click here to head over to Wattpad.
Each of the three projects is so different from the other, they each forced me to stretch my writing muscles even the sequel. I had so much fun getting the two novels so close to the end, for Drawing Thin I have started to get feedback from my beta readers and it looks like I managed to tell another gripping tale, though I’m sure I’ll have plenty of edits to do. And with Knavish I have been told by multiple people that I can nail the creepy factor, which for what that story is trying to do is a good thing. I am a little behind with my collection of short stories, but I am pushing myself, and I should have those into the hands of beta readers soon.
I look at where each of those projects started at the beginning of the year, and I am amazed that I have been able to steer those projects as far as I have with the rest of my life taking the time that it does, but I managed it somehow. Now with the finish line rapidly approaching I had begun to look around I just do not have the same kind of funds that I did when I worked so diligently to publish Dead Man’s Hand. I have been trying to look for deals and favors to get the last few things done for my upcoming work. Then a couple of days ago I remembered something that opened my mind, Kickstarter is a thing. So I began to think could I try and get the needed work done for my books and stories if I used this fantastic tool to fund the work.
Well I thought about it for a little while, and I eventually decided to give it a go, and I signed up for a Kickstarter profile. Why did I sign up? Well, I think there are people out there who still enjoy fantastic stories. That is my first goal to create stories that pull people in and captivate them from the first word to the last. Unfortunately, I am not independently wealthy, so I need work with other people to be able to make my work be the best it can be. And that is what Kickstarter does best. It brings creators together with people who are excited about what they are creating. The world at large can look upon a creator and say, we are going to help you bring your creation to the rest of the world.
As I continued to think about it, I got even more excited about trying it, so I sat down and started to think about what I needed to do. Well, first I needed to define how I was going to reward anyone who decides to back my project. So I took my time, and I made a list of potential rewards, to see every tier please go to my project by clicking here could do for rewarding those who choose to back my upcoming work. Well, I think I came up with a fantastic set of rewards, ranging from digital copies of all of the covers for the stories I plan to publish next year to rewarding up to five people with bringing them into some of my future work.
And as I went to get the URL for my project, to include in this post, I found that someone had already decided to back my project, and I smiled. I hope that my project is able to reach its goal so I can bring these stories the same quality of care as I did with my first. Thank you all for reading this post, please take some time and visit my project page and look through the rewards and make a backing that feels right to you.
]]>One of the significant differences in these two journeys is that while I always had a rough idea of what I wanted for Dead Man’s Hand, this time I had no such picture in my mind. The other was that when I started working on my first book’s cover had no idea who I would end up using as an artist, so I turned to Google and found a few artists. Ultimately I lucked out and found Leah Kaye Suttle fairly early on, as I said before she is a talented and fantastic artist. As I worked with her, I found her to be entirely professional from the initial contact to the very end of the project.
She kept me involved with each and every step of making sure I was delighted with each and every little change. Now all I had given her was the basic shape of the cover I wanted, it wasn’t much, but it was all I had at the time. Once she had it though she ran with it and made her first revision. When I saw it, I was blown away by what I saw. She delivered on what I said I wanted the cover to look like but she had added something wonderful. She placed the core image right on top of a background of another player and a field of green from a poker table.
We did have some back and forth for some minor things, but I had fallen in love with the cover she had presented to me. And just like that, I had a cover for my book, and of course, I was eagerly showing it off to all of my friends and family. I’m sure everyone who say it gave me a response, but the only response that has stuck with me was my friend’s. “It looks like a book cover.”
Those five simple words may not look like much and in all honesty, his response kind of brought me down for a moment. But once my friend explained what he meant by those five simple words my joy was once more dialed up to an eleven. When he looked at the new cover, he saw something that every book and nothing seemed out of place. So I remember looking down at this image and thinking that I now had something that proved that I was about to become a published author. I had a book cover. And I couldn’t be happier with the results.
I’m sure I will end up having a similar reaction as I go through the process for my new novel and my collection of short stories. I can hardly wait until I can see the completed covers, I feel like a child on Christmas Eve.
]]>Since I’m not extremely well versed with poetry, I immediately dropped that argument. I eventually made stated that a good story will carry weak characters. That is where I began to sway my dad to the benefits of flash fiction. I still think he is holding his final decision on flash fiction until he starts to read my take on the style of writing. However, I really began to think about my stance on the importance of the story over its characters.
When my dad began to change his opinion, he thought about his dad’s literary collection. He remembered the high adventure stories that graced those shelves and realized that they were all great stories, but the characters were not the best characters in the world.
I remember hearing somewhere that all prose can be boiled down to seven plots and I remember being shocked at first. Though as I thought about it, I began to realize that its right. So what differentiates the almost countless stories that exist? And if so how can I stand and make my argument that the story is what gives a work its weight.
It only took me a moment to answer my own question. There may just be seven primary threads when it comes to storytelling, but with those threads, a storyteller is able to make a grand tapestry. It all comes down to how the plots are interwoven and layered upon each other. Just because there are only seven base plot lines does not mean that a single story can only have one plot line. Most novels there is a single significant plot but several complementary plot lines. The great authors are able to weave these base ideas to form fantastic verbal tapestries.
Outside of a work’s plot, there is the interaction between the characters, their dialogue that will add to a story’s importance. Notice I’m not talking about the characters themselves, instead of how they interact with each other. Poor characters can still have fantastic interactions which help to improve the overall storyline.
At this point I want to make something very clear, I am not arguing that authors or storytellers should make shallow characters. In fact, the best works manage to have a vibrant story and well-rounded characters. All I’m saying is that they are not as crucial to a particular work as the story that brings them to life. To me, it comes down to this simple fact: the story is what drives the tale, it transports the characters that grace the pages.
]]>So I figured this was the way I would see movies until I happened to be browsing AMC movie listings for whatever reason and noticed that Saturday morning movie prices were relatively reasonable instead of five dollars they were about six dollars and some change. With the reasonable prices I decided to buy some tickets for that movie, but I also saw that they were still doing their AMC Stubs membership. I decided to take a look at the benefits of the program, while I don’t think they were this good the last time I joined the program, they are genuinely amazing. There are a few benefits that make the fifteen dollars a year for the premier level worth it.
The first of the critical benefits is honestly the $5 Tuesday tickets. Now the five dollar price tag is strictly for a ticket to the base theater, and while you can get any theater experience you want that the movie of your choice is playing in, all you have to do is pay a small upcharge for the experience. This is a fantastic benefit that cannot be understated, especially when you consider that the price for a regular ticket is, depending on where you might live, roughly fifteen dollars for an adult. This means that on Tuesdays I’ll be able to get three tickets for what I would approximately pay for just myself. This is awesome and means that depending on what I’m doing I can take a day and just go to a string of movies, or go out for a movie night with the family and see a movie that I may not have thought about seeing otherwise. Plus there is a special combo for movies on five dollar night; a small drink, and popcorn for five dollars, again when that close to the price for a large drink alone it works pretty well for my daughter.
Now the other benefits while nice do not get to that level because the price of movies is still ridiculous, but being able to buy tickets online without a service fee is definitely a nice perk to those random, “let’s go see a movie moments.” But the other two perks that make this membership a lifesaver are the free upgrades to drinks and popcorn. You go and ask for a large popcorn, drink or both, and they charge you the cost for the price for the regular sizes. And since you got to have something to either drink or eat during the show, this is another massive benefit to the movie-going experience especially since it saves a couple bucks per item.
The last perk ill mention here, click on the link above to see all of the benefits to a stubs membership, is the AMC cashback you get. It starts with accumulating points and with the Premiere membership you get one hundred points for every dollar you spend at AMC either on tickets or concessions. Though while collecting the points is essential the other side is getting AMC cash back, and the rate is for every five thousand points you get five dollars back. So for the premiere level for every fifty dollars, you spend you get five back.
This is a nice membership and the first and only that I intend to pay for every year.
]]>Sherry looked up from her screens for a moment and answered, “Yes captain, the planet can support life. There is a myriad of animal and plant life that will supplement our inventory.”
Tarian turned his attention to the other officer and asked, “Kel, have we received our final approval to begin the colonization attempt?”
“Yes we have Tarian,” Kel answered.
With a nod, Tarian began preparing the ship for entry into the new planet’s atmosphere, and the windshield lit up with a heads-up display full of all the information he would need to land the ship safely.
Tarian flipped another switch on the dashboard and spoke to the rest of the crew. “The planet below will support our colonization attempt, and just as importantly we’ve been given our final approval from home, so prepare for entry.”
After Tarian turned off the ship’s intercom, Sherry pulled her head away from her screens and said, “Captain, I have just noticed something anomalous with the atmosphere.”
“What is it, Sherry?”
“I can’t explain sir, but there are some anomalous readings.”
With a backward glance, Tarian asked, “Do we need to abort, Sherry?”
She returned her attention back to the information flowing across her screens, and after parsing it as best as she could, answered. “We should be fine sir, just be careful with the entry.”
Returning his attention to his own display, Tarian tightened his grip on the ship’s controls and muttered to himself, “No pressure.” Then he raised his voice and spoke to his friends and officers, “Let’s go colonize our new home.”
.
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To continue reading the story, click here to head over to Wattpad.
Of course, as I saw that restriction for flash fiction, I thought that no one craft a story in no more than a thousand words, yet I was also intrigued by the idea of it. With the format in mind, I started looking for some examples of flash fiction. And as I read a few different examples of the format, I realized that the limit of a thousand words could result in a story just as satisfying as a novel. Just as long as the words are the right thousand words.
With that realization freshly in mind, I started thinking about what kind of story I could write as flash fiction. So I started looking through my various notebooks to see if there were any story ideas that I could use for the format. Unfortunately, all of the stories that I have lined up are scaled up to at least short story length. And frankly, I don’t think I could edit them down to flash fiction size and still maintain a solid storyline. Just as I was about to dismiss the format from my mind I saw a few entries in one of my notebooks that formed an important part of the backstory for a much larger tale. More importantly, it was a story arc that I had no intention of telling independently. So I started to think about how I would take this somewhat lengthy story and fit it into flash fiction sized bites.
However, I was frustrated, so I hopped up and turned on the television and started watching a show. And as I sat there watching the show, a connection lit up in my mind. I could tell this story arc as a collection of flash fiction, with each mini-tale telling its own complete story while at the same time laying the bricks for a much larger endeavor, ultimately composing a completed storyline. The writer inside of me jumped for joy, and I started thinking about how I would disseminate my flash stories, and I decided that I would publish each completed story as a blog post as I wrote them. Of course, I would tag them so someone could quickly find the complete tale to read or reread them as someone wants.
I am eagerly awaiting my first publication of flash fiction, and I hope that everyone who reads them will find each to be a fantastic story in its own right, as well as enjoying the greater storyline they help to create.
]]>But in the end Laurence bows to the urgency of the need at hand and they rush to recover the eggs. As their journey unfolds they run into feral dragons, who seem to have their own language, avalanches and fighting the terror of the deserts including thirst and sandstorms. Laurence is forced to dig deeper into his understanding of honor and how a gentle man is supposed to behave and is tested as events unfold in Instanbul. We get a fantastic overviewof his internal struggle as he makes his choice regarding the eggs, when it becomes obvious that the sultan is ready to renig on the arrangement with Brittan. Of course this is most likely due to the pressence of the only other Celestial who treds upon the world outside of China, Lien the alino dragon and companion of the former Prince Yongxing.
Decision made Laurence and his crew manage to retrive the renigged eggs, even though temeraire is having issues with the fact that brittan bought the eggs. Though in their flight one of the crew and one of the eggs are lost in a fall from temeraire to the ground. Eventhough everyone was distraught by the needless death they flee to the nearest borders and they do manage to escape into austria and are given a night of safty by an austrian solder who is quite bitter that his country has bent its knee to Napoleon.
They quickly continue their flight into home, only to end up in a prushian camp and are forced to stay because of an agreement with brittan for twenty dragons, who have never shown up to honor the agreement. Now this is a point of contention with Laurence for the rest of the novel, he knows that the corp would only have withheld the promised support only if they had no other choice, but he is never quite able to figure out the reason. But he eventually agrees to stay and while he tries to incorporate his crew into the Prushian arial corp, temeraire is busy trying to preach his newfound knowledge of the rights that dragons possess in china with those in the prsian corp. The only issue is that none of these dragons want to have those rights, all they want to do is what they have always done. Laurence has an overdue conversation with temeraire about the fact that eqality for dragons will take time, more importantly it will have to wait till the war with france is over.
With that revelation we are shown just how naive the dragon truely is. Yes he is exceptionally intelligent especially considering that he is still less than five years old, something that is truely forgotten about most of the time. However with this hope and desire it is painfully obvious just how childlike temeraire is. And that innocence is absolutely compelling coming from a creature who could level an attacking army with his roar. Unfortuantely the brief hope that they could beat Napoleon and end the war soon gives way when the french emporor wins battle after battle thanks to his using his new arieal commander Lien. Eventually Temmeraire is forced to flee and while they are on the run the fire breather hatches and Granby becomes her captain but she proves to be more of a hinderence than a help always trying to start a fight even with temeraire.
the whole lot are lucky enough to land in a prusian keep while the french were busy checking on other things. As time went on Laurence knows they must risk everything and flee the keep in an attempt to reach the british boats when they finally see dragons coming who immeadiately engage with the french dragons guarding the keep. From this point the novel quickly wraps up in a wonderful way, a pragmatic series of events but still a satisfying conclusion that fits with the recklessness of the rest of the novel.
]]>Since I had no intention of limiting either my writing or the work on my blog I needed to limit the pleasure reading that I did. So I took a little while to think about it, and I realized that I had the perfect way to separate my literature, headspaces. What is a headspace? Well, people might have their own definition of what a headspace is, to me a headspace is where or how I consume a work of literature. I’ve come to find out that when it comes to reading I have enough room inside my tiny mind for three significant headspaces, and I can sometimes squeeze in a fourth.
The first of my headspace is dedicated to either reading a single story that is either on my kindle or in some form of the printed medium at a time. This area is where I had the most trouble all those fateful years ago, as I was trying to leverage different kindles using each different screen as a separate headspace. This arbitrary limit forces quite a backlog of books that I want to read but since there is a limited number of books that are on my list that that are available on either my Kindle or print, but instead of fighting that limit I use it to curate the books that are in that list.
While I have a limited amount of time to read books, I get much more traction out of my second literature headspace since it is dedicated to audiobooks, specifically Audible. This queue moves reasonably swiftly as I have more time to listen to books than I do actually reading them, but thanks to audible there are plenty of options for me to delve into.
My third headspace for consuming literature is another audiobook, but I only use this headspace when I’m listening to a book with my daughter. It is a habit we picked up a long time ago. We’ve gone through a numerous amount of books together ever since we started this little tradition, and while I’m the one who gets the most of this headspace it is something we do together, and that simple act is fantastic.
Now, these headspaces form the bulk of my reading, but I do have one more to consume beautiful stories. My fourth headspace is dedicated to graphic novels. Now I’m not talking about comics like Farside or the ones in newspapers, those are easy on the mind and are utterly fleeting. No, I’m talking about graphic novels like those of Farscape, the Dresden files or Angel after the fall to name a few. These novels, or more accurately depending on the edition a collection of comic books, have beautiful storylines, and every so often I absolutely pull one of these off my digital shelf and read the story held within those pages.
With these clearly defined headspaces I am comfortably able to read the stories I want while still being able to maintain my mental health.
]]>Aeryn is having difficulty adjusting to he new life as a mother, especially since Deke (John gave their son the nickname because it is too hard to call him Dargo) is continually crying; being a mother is merely a skill she never had. Meanwhile, John is trying to find a home for his new family, but Moya keeps detecting something at the edge of her sensors. But without more information, John just tell Pilot to keep an eye on it.
We see another side of Rygel as we go through the four books in this series. When he lands on the Palace Planet and is immediately betrayed by his wife and thrown into jail along with Jothee and Chiana, we see him at his absolute low, but he is transferred to yet another Peacekeeper ship to repeat the experience he went through so long ago.
John and Aeryn, show the reader who they really are once again when they hear what happened to their friends. They show their dedication and loyalty by heading down to the planet to save them with their son in tow. However, as always, their plans manage to fall apart, and they are arrested and incarcerated.
Of course, it wouldn’t be a Farscape story without their greatest villain, Scorpius. He has somehow managed to find his way to Hynerian space and is just as single-minded as always, with his hatred of the Scarans ruling everything. With the reduction of power of the Peacekeepers, he is searching out someone to be able to fight the Scarans even the Hynerians.
With ingenuity and boldness, everyone is able to escape their captors and rally to find new allies to further their journey. And with the stage set so beautifully, when it comes to time will Moya’s crew prove ready to wrap up Rygel’s almost century and a half long journey back to his throne. Or will his journey end in failure. All of the main characters grow from page one to the last, growing and surprising each other, some more than others.
I decided to read this first Farscape graphic novel to recapture my memories of the show, and I was thankfully rewarded by leaps and bounds.
]]>But the little known, outside of the uber comic book obsessed fans, burst onto the screen and made a name for himself. In the first movie, we are introduced to this tiny superhero, both the first Ant-Man and his successor. Scott Lang is a devoted father who had made some bad choices, and by the end of the film, we see him moving in the right direction.
Between the two Ant-Man films, we are treated to the events of Captain America Civil War. And Scott chooses a side in the conflict. Unfortunately, he made the wrong choice at least from the legal standpoint and is imprisoned by the end of that feature.
So now that we have gotten the appropriate backstory in place, we begin the journey of Ant-Man and the Wasp. Part of the fallout from Scott’s actions leave him under house arrest, and Hank Pym and Hope van Dyne are fugitives. The cast and crew have done another fantastic job to bring yet another story featuring this tiny hero to the big screen. The tension between Scott Lang, Hope van Dyne, and Hank Pym is absolutely genius, and it melts away believably as the movie progresses.
And with all the tension between those three main characters, it is fantastic to see the love between Scott and his daughter Cassie. Throughout the entire story, she is Scott’s rock, his source of strength and desire. The one thought that guides Scott’s decisions throughout the film is his paternal instinct to protect Cassie from harm. But she says the right words to keep Scott on the right path to become a true hero.
There is plenty of humor, both honest jokes and subtle references that everyone will enjoy this latest installment of the MCU. One of my favorite references happens reasonably early in the movie as Scott looks out of the passenger window and sees an enormous eye staring back at him. Unlike the scene from the original Jurassic Park, he is not eye to eye with a Tyrannosaurus Rex, but it is pretty much the same scale.
When the movie finished and the post-credit scene finished, I found myself waiting for Avengers 4 and the next installment of the Ant-Man series.
]]>To keep the Chinese from severing ties, the British are eager to try and force the dragon’s departure. Which does not go over well and an eventual compromise is reached, since the two will not be parted. It is decided that Temeraire would return to China with Laurence and his crew. The compromise does manage to give Laurence the opportunity to try and convince the Chinese to let Temeraire stay with Laurence.
When they eventually set sail the journey begins far from smoothly they are attacked by the French, during the fight Temeraire suffers an injury that keeps him flightless for some time. In addition to the battle, there is an absolutely terrible dinner that the diplomat assigned to this delegation forced upon the British captain. But after these things troublesome matters Laurence does try to offer an olive branch to the Chinese, and he seems to win some of them over. It doesn’t help Laurence’s mode that the Chinese, specifically the prince are insinuating themselves into Temeraire teasing him with the culture he could expect to embrace if he were to choose to live in China.
Due to a lack of provisions, a result of Temeraire’s inability to hunt for at sea, they are all forced to swing by a coastal town that practices slavery. As soon as the dragon sees the practice, he is immediately unnerved by what is happening to the slaves, something that would be forever more present in the dragon’s mind. It makes its first appearance when they need to secure Temeraire to the deck of the dragon transport. He is immediately put off from the idea of being chained, but he eventually sees the need and allows himself to be secured to the deck by the chains. During all of the trials that Temeraire goes through, there are several attempts by the prince to try and separate the dragon and his captain, but Laurence rebuffs each effort.
By the end of the journey to China, Laurence had made some headway with some of the Chinese delegations except of course for Prince Yongxing. And now Laurence must attempt to work against the Chinese culture that treats dragons much more like citizens something he had never before had thought was possible. And of course the troubles that had happened during their journey to China were not isolated to the journey, Temeraire’s crew is in danger in their gilded cage.
The journey towards the climax is well written and paced wonderfully. The conclusion is as surprising as it is satisfactory. just as it was in His Majesty’s Dragon, Naomi Novik did an excellent job bringing an ancient culture to our attention. This installment of Temeraire’s journey is a fantastic followup to the first.
]]>Despite promising to center around the aerial corp of the Brittish Empire, the book begins at sea aboard a British ship the Reliant and a French ship the Amitie after a skirmish in which the Reliant prevails. One of the spoils of war is a dragon egg. Usually, this is something a crew would cheer over, however, this egg is about to hatch. Something that will not only bring them less reward but also would require one of the crew to sacrifice their naval career to become an aviator.
When the hatching occurs the naval officer who had pulled the short straw tried to harness the dragon. Though when he attempted to the dragon ignored him, and began talking with the Captain of the Reliant. It took Laurence a moment to understand what had just happened, but when he did, he knew that the newly hatched dragon had just upended his life plunging him into the world of the British aerial corp.
Laurence knowing that he would no longer be a naval officer promptly promoted one of his officers to captain and began his duty to bond with Temeraire. His duty was not an easy one, at least not at first. But as time went on, he began to understand not only the complicated life of an aviator but his new charge. And as that understanding deepened, he began to love the creature more than any ship he had ever captained.
Before we move on to the crux of the story, we are informed that Temeraire is an Imperial dragon one of the rarest of Chinese dragons. Shortly after the identification, we move to Temeraire’s and Laurence’s training. That and the changes in Laurence’s life take up most of the work. One of the bigger surprises for Laurence is that the instructor at Loch Laggan is a dragon, but he quickly comes to terms with it, and the pair excels with their training. As their training progresses, Laurence begins to form solid relations with some of the aviators that initially cared little for him because of his naval upbringing that he brought with him. What had turned them was the loyalty Laurence showed to his dragon and those who serve under him.
By the time the climax arrives we have seen just how devoted both dragon and captain are to each other and to what lengths they will do things for one another, so much so that during the final battle we see just how special Temeraire truly is.
The story is a well crafted and a pleasant read, while I never went to the effort to find out how much of the book was historically accurate, it feels accurate, aside from the draconic elements of the book. And the fact that it does feel right is a testament to how much effort the author did when doing her research because aside from those draconic aspects I can absolutely see these events playing out during the Napoleonic wars.
]]>However, when Amazon included Audible as part of their portfolio they introduced Whispersync for Voice a supped up version of their first generation Whispersync. Not only does Whispersync for Voice keep you at the same place between audible devices it also keeps you at the same location between Kindle devices if the e-book has a paired Audible version. Now think about it you can start a book on a Kindle at home then hop into your car and pick up right where you left off listening to the book as you drive to work. Then on your break pull out your Kindle app on your phone and read a few more pages, only to then hop back into your car and continue listening to the professional narration as you go home on your commute.
This technology that Amazon has been continually improving is incredible. It is absolutely mindblowing when you stop and think about it. Which is yet another reason why I absolutely love Audible. And thanks to the rich collection of narrated stories that Audible currently has and is striving to continue to improve, the selection of books that support Whispersync for Voice is impressive. The thing that is truly impressive with Whispersync for Voice is the next logical extension of the technology, Immersive Reading. It is limited to specific Kindle screens, but it highlights the text as the professional narration reads the story.
It is that that made me get my daughter a gift that would help her reading while we do some of our everyday things. Listening to Audiobooks has helped to ignite her mind to the world of reading, specifically Brandon Sanderson’s Alcatraz series! Now thanks to Amazon’s amazing Kindle ecosystem my daughter is able to listen to books that would typically be too far above her reading level and follow along as the spoken words are highlighted on her Fire’s screen. And recently she has begun to gravitate to this section of her fire, and I haven’t been more thrilled.
I think her recent nudge towards using her Fire to listen to books comes from the nightly habit I’ve worked so diligently to instill. Every night I would play an audiobook, and we listen till she fell asleep. We have read through a fair number of books this way, and right now she is looping through the Alcatraz series. This habit is so well formed that she has some trouble going to sleep if we don’t have a book playing as she tries to fall to sleep. But I’m ecstatic that a spark of excitement for the written word is beginning to fan in my daughter’s mind.
]]>Both of the Pitt brothers meet with their father so he can fulfill his destiny, preparing Owen to go into battle so he can have a chance to save the world. Once their father tells them everything, he needed to tell them he collapses and with that Owen knows what he has to do. He and Julie take the lead that Franks gave them in Nemesis and end up meeting a Cyclops, who is so devoted to Julie that he tells them he can see seven lights from the Nightmare Realm. And armed with this knowledge Owen starts planning a siege of the city of monsters. The city sits on top of a portal that on a particular day will give them access to their missing brothers in arms. It also happens to be where the big bad evil that threatens the end of the world slumbered until Owen broke time.
So now armed with the vital intelligence Owen needs to rescue the hunters who went missing from the last dragon, He begins to plan a worldwide mission to save them. The scope of the mission is nothing short of declaring war against the city of monsters, a place so nasty that Nikolai Petrov decided the best way to deal with it was to bomb it with the biggest nuclear bomb they could find. As Owen gathers the intelligence needed to go to war with the city he makes new friends and meets both living and dead.
Once greenlit the hunters from around the world gather in Alaska so they can train and prepare to fight the biggest battle of their lives. Once the army lands on the island, they begin to fight until they manage to secure the gateway to the nightmare realm. Once acquired Owen and the rest of the team responsible for rescuing the missing hunters make their way to the gateway. But just as Owen feared only he, the man who drew the short straw long before he was born, was allowed to walk through the gateway. So Owen is alone in a realm where the most potent will, has complete and total control the environment, will the only man ever to survive a zombie bite manage to control the fabric of reality in the nightmare realm and save the missing hunters?
The events of the book progress just like you would expect for an entry in the Monster Hunter series, and as such is a good book to pick up when you need a dose of action and adventure.
]]>I got quickly got a bottle of water and sat down and began to listen. Unfortunately, my memory is not what it once was and the concepts of the readings have for the most part fled from my mind with a few exceptions. While I was there, I heard some poetry, a commentary and an excerpt from a couple of novels. The poetry escapes my memory, but the commentary and the passages I heard did lodge in my mind. The commentary was about the state of families in the world from the point of view of a cleaning woman, who was shocked that there was any marital issue with a particular family. The reason it was moving was this family seemed to be the perfect family and would never have these kinds of problems. But it ended with hopes that things would get better for everyone.
The two excerpts though caught my eye, one of them was from a serialized detective story currently titled Axe to Grind while the other is Of Captivity & Kings. Both caught my eye and when the break came in the night I was able to speak with both of the writers. E.Y. Laster had some copies of her book, and she gave it to me, and as soon as I finish my current book, I will start reading the book and give it an honest and fair review.
The other author, Theo March, gave me some insights into his journey with Axe to Grind, the first being that this original title will be changed once he has completed the story. He also mentioned that once he is finished with the story, he will collect all of the loose chapters so they can be removed from his site and published on Amazon, under a new title. Again as soon as I make some headspace for the book, I plan on reading it on his site, so if you are interested read it while you can.
The fact that I was able to interact with both of these writers is the exact reason this group meets up like this. It gives authors the chance to introduce people to their work in a way that isn’t possible with just posting them online. It is a very visceral connection that has started to dissipate from the world at least in the minds of some people. And after having experienced my first journey into the readings of local authors, I can not wait to go again and even to share an excerpt from my own book. I only regret not having gotten there sooner.
]]>Don’t get me wrong all of, well most of the plot lines that had been dangling by the series finale were wrapped up beautifully. But the ending promised so much more than what it wrapped up. Each and every fan knew was never going to grace our screens. But thankfully the creators of Farscape were not willing to let these beloved characters just walk off into the memory of their fans. Hence we got a continuation this epic tale of sorts in comic book form.
I first ran into these graphic novels many years ago and of course since I am a huge fan of the series I was ecstatic. I had new Farscape stories to consume, and as I read them, I wasn’t disappointed. These new stories begin right where Peacekeeper Wars left off, and they never looked back.
Old foes resurfaced, and new enemies spring up to make the lives of Moya’s crew just as interesting as ever. And true to its roots in the show and mini-series the crew always manage to fumble their way through these misadventures, while finding the most ridiculous way to solve their current problems.
The artwork in the comics is fantastic, and the characters remain true to who they are while they manage to grow just like they did during the televised stories. Any fan of the show should read each and every story in order to be entertained by the wonderful crew of Moya as they journey through space.
]]>The story starts with Franks being interrogated, though he doesn’t quite remember how he got into the room opposite his interrogator. After a quick back and forth the agent instructs Franks to start at the beginning, and he does. Each chapter begins with an excerpt from the interrogation and with each bit we delve deeper into who Franks is and what drives him, aside from just wanting to kill the demons and monsters that inhabit the world.
Back to the story though, we get a report of Frank’s activities in California that was mentioned in Alpha. To the fallout of Legion, which falls right into the main plot of Nemesis. Recall if you will Stricken’s visit to Pitt at the end of Legion, Frank’s situation was exactly what he had been hoping for. Frank’s was on his way out of favor with the administration, but that was only the opening salvo in Stricken’s plan.
With Stricken’s deft maneuvers and even a preemptive strike, Frank’s full character begins to be put on display. We are shown his practical side with his foresight, and we also get to see a hint of his patients, but we are masterfully shown his passion during that strike and his ultimate struggle. He is single-minded, but he is actually very intelligent, calculating ever available option at his disposal before committing to his task at hand. And once he discovers that Nemesis assets were created in violation of the contract he made with the founding fathers, well… “war were declared.”
The unstoppable force (or immovable object depending on how you look at it) is finally in over his head facing the Nemesis assets whose bodies were based on his own body’s design. The significance of these Nemesis monsters is slowly explained through the excerpts preceding each chapter, so pay attention to them. Though it is quickly apparent to the reader that Stricken might not be the one in control of his prized Nemesis killing machines.
During Frank’s mission to destroy the creatures Stricken has brought into the world, we finally get to see the fight that has been teased during the series. Franks against Harbinger, no holds bar the king of the werewolves versus Frankenstein’s monster. The unstoppable force versus the immovable object. And the fight does not disappoint, but I will not spoil that outcome at all.
Of course, Larry Correia continues his effort to educate the masses on weapons. This is yet another good action based novel that is great for a mature audience, and it gives a fantastic insight to the history of Agent Frank’s that lets the readers understand the monster in a new light.
]]>In Monster Hunter International we learn that Owen used to be an illegal pit fighter, and his last fight was with a man who was even larger than he was. The reason that fight was his last fight was that he came very close to beating that man to death, in fact, he cost the man one of his eyes. But when Jason Lacoco runs into Owen, he immediately recognizes the man who beat him and instantly started a fight that quickly drew in all the hunters that were trying to eat.
During Douglas Stark’s, the new Director of the Monster Control Buro, speech the hunters are all called to a new meeting with Mr. Stricken who offers the hunters present a chance at getting a ten million dollar prize. The hunters all race to collect on the new PUFF bounty and one of the teams, Grim Berlin out of Germany, manage to collect the bounty with an assist from MHI.
After celebrating their victory, everything goes south, and the hunters are in a race to survive from a monster that seems to have no substantial form. Though Mr. Stricken does make contact with the quarantined hunters and tells them, they have to either kill the monster or die when their time is up. Once again Owen has to match wits with monsters, Management and even Mr. Striken, who is pulling the strings of the MCB.
Unfortunately for Owen and all the other hunters, this particular monster can pluck any fear from the heart of any of the hunters who are trapped within the hotel and make it real. And with the collection of hunters at the conference, there are plenty of nasty and violent creatures for the monster to choose from. So the violence level is right where fans of the series expect, which means the rush is right where they hope it to be. Making Monster Hunter Legion a fantastic addition to the Monster Hunter series.
]]>Now I had been thinking about getting myself a new mattress when I saw the video for the first time, and the commercial definitely did its job since it piqued my interest. With my interest piqued by the ad, I buckled down and started doing my research into the world of internet mattresses. So I pulled up my computer and launched my trusty web browser and started flexing my Googling muscles. I managed to find numerous videos and reviews for Purple but also some of their competitors like Casper, Leesa and Tuft & Needle. Now, most of these companies put their money where their mouths are and offer ridiculous return policies since their customers cant try out the mattresses. Purple offers their customers one hundred nights to determine if the new mattress will work for them, and I let my hundred nights come and go by the end of it I had decided that I have never had a better night’s sleep than I had with my purple mattress.
Now when it comes to sleep the mattress is only a piece of the greater puzzle, both regarding comfort and durability. Now I have used many different mattress protectors to protect my mattress, but I have never found one that had been able to balance both comfort and protection. That is until I started going through the various products that purple offers and their accompanying videos, including their Mattress Protector. With this video we stumble upon a family of Sasquatch, in fact, the first member of the family we meet is the mother who is taking care of the family’s laundry, and she launches right into the purpose of the commercial advertising the benefits of the protector. The benefits bubble down to the protector being a second skin to any mattress keeping all the benefits of the mattress and protecting it from any potential stains from spilled liquids.
When I ordered the mattress, I ordered a pair of mattress protectors to use with the new mattress, and if I decided I did not like the Purple Mattress, I would probably hold onto the mattress protectors to use with my old mattress. When the bed arrived I wasted no time in setting up the mattress I would not lose a single night of the risk-free one hundred night return window. As soon as I laid down upon it, I felt like I was being swaddled by clouds. There are numerous reasons why I absolutely love my new bed, and one of them is because it entirely manages to live up to the hype the company gives it. That strange purple layer (that you will not see unless you tear apart the mattress, something I do not suggest doing) manages to provide me with so much comfort, and it also manages to let me sleep very cooly something I had not managed to get with my previous mattresses. That alone is something that I wouldn’t have given up.
If I have piqued your interest in getting a new Purple Mattress please click here to get a free Mattress Protector when you buy a Purple Mattress.
]]>Now I know that the trilogy is no longer the official version of the story, a mantle that the film took over, but I had still read it when I was younger, so there were certain facts form those books that were floating in my mind as the film’s story unfolded in front of me. There were some very marked differences between the two, which is to be expected, but those differences are not particularly relevant to the movie itself. Despite the differences, I think the fundamental character of Han Solo manages to remain intact in the film.
Also, I will say my piece right away, I was very disappointed with the opening scene of the movie. This is a star wars story, but you would never know that from its beginning moments. The scrolling text that gives the film its required backstory nor the star wars theme song was present, and I cringed a little inside. These are, or rather should be staples of any film that tries to establish itself in this universe. Now they might seem like small things, and in truth they are, but that doesn’t change the fact that they are synonymous with Star Wars despite the precedent that Rouge One set by excluding them.
With two strikes already going for the movie, you might think that I have no love for it, but you would be wrong. Watching the movie unfold I was able to relax and enjoy the story that Disney crafted for Han’s early life. And that is precisely the reason that I was pleasantly surprised by it in the end, it has a beautiful story at its heart. Yes, there is plenty of action throughout the film, but there was a tapestry of storylines that made for a realistic feature. In fact, there were so many floating storylines peppered throughout the movie that I’m sure they will be making another entry to continue the tale of Han Solo. And I am already very eager for such an installment, after all, we need to get Han into that Mos Eisley cantina so he can shoot first.
]]>Due to the events of Monster Hunter Vendetta, Earl Harbinger had to fight to keep his memories when an old friend Martin Hood implanted a demon into his mind. Earl came to call that monster Rocky, and the two battled over various memories, and for the most part, Earl did enough to keep his mind intact, but he started writing journals to try and pinpoint the memories that he had lost. He had written one about his family, his company and he was beginning one about his experiences as a werewolf.
He is drawn to a meeting with an old handle named Kirk Conover, who gives Earl information concerning an old nemesis named Nikolai Petrov. Like Earl, Nikolai was a fellow werewolf though he was not bothered by something as petty as a conscious. That is what separates the two men. During the course of the book, we are treated to the backstory of these two men and why they are such bitter rivals. And something that was mentioned in the first book is expounded upon, Earl Harbinger, despite having an equal in Nikolai, is the Alpha werewolf, and he has only two rules, the first of which is that werewolves are to leave humans alone, i.e., no killing. The second rule is discovered as the book progresses and is not crucial in this context. Both of the rules are tested, and we get to see how Harbinger handles those who violate those rules.
But Nikolai is not the only threat in the small Michigan town. No, we are quickly introduced to another who is threatening his reign as the king of werewolves. Though this threat does not see Earl as a true alpha, and it doesnt hurt that he has some extra help in his bid to dethrown Earl, not to mention the connection to Earl that forms the crux of the revelation of what Rocky took from Earl. With the bar for violence and weaponry set pretty high in the first two novels, the violence in Alpha does not disappoint, it assumes that mantle and carries on brilliantly.
The story is a wonderful diversion in a busy life, just like any action movie.
]]>Marvel Studios has done something unique in Hollywood, they looked at the various characters whose movie rights they still held, and they started a connected universe. Iron man was the first cornerstone the studio would lay down, and with it, they took their first chance. They needed the movie to be a success right from the first weekend to the DVD sales. It was a fantastic movie, and the people in the audience had no clue what was really happening in the universe founded by Iron Man. That is right up till the included scene that rolled after the credits.
Since this was their first movie, it was such a brilliant thing to do, but after the last credit rolled the audience that had for some reason decided to wait were greeted with Nick Fury addressing Tony Stark. And anyone who knew anything about Marvel’s comic books knew what they were talking about instantly and just as immediately they went from slightly interested to over the moon with excitement. We were teased with a plan that would be years in the making, Marvel Studios was planning on bringing the Avengers to the big screen.
But they needed to get the audience excited and invested in the characters who were going to be the crux of the group they were making. So they continued to lay their groundwork despite a great deal of skepticism surrounding their future. So they entered their first phase with the intent to introduce all the characters, some as major characters with others added as minor characters. And this interweaving of a common thread amongst the movies, and even their television shows is what makes the MCU special.
This connections that the studio was ultimately teasing first took shape with the mid-credit scene of the first Avengers movie when they introduced Thanos. But they brought it into sharp focus during Guardians of the Galaxy volume 1 when the entered the concept of the infinity stones. Glue laid down they continued teasing the connective tissue with each installment of their universe. But the depth of the interwoven storyline wouldn’t be complete till Avengers Infinity War in 2018, well technically it would be wrapped up till 2019 when the 4th Avengers movie is released.
They treated each movie just as if it were a television show. And the journey we have been taken on, as a result, has been nothing short of incredible. But the success Marvel Studio has managed to achieve would not have been possible if it hadn’t been for the studio’s patients. Their Phase 1 of movies laid a solid foundation for what was to come, while Phase 2 expanded the universe we were being guided through and Phase 3 brings this connected storyline to its ultimate conclusion.
To me, it is this fantastic storytelling crafted by the guidance of Kevin Feige’s unifying vision and the studio’s patience that has given the MCU its current place atop of Hollywood. A feat that every other studio has been racing to try and replicate with varying amount of success.
]]>From my point of view, one of the reasons why it was so successful was that Amazon did something that was truly unprecedented. They did something that no one would have expected a major corporation to do, they gave something away for free. They gave their customers who bought into the Kindle from the beginning free cellular service so they could always have access to the Kindle e-book store, and so the reading revolution began. With the success of their hardware, Amazon eventually expanded their portfolio of readers with software. The Kindle went from a dedicated device to be available on just about any and every screen the company could get onto. As the ways to read Kindle materials grew, I began to move away from using my dedicated reading device until I eventually abandoned the dedicated device altogether.
As time passed, I would pull up the books I wanted to read on either an iPad, Fire or even a web browser and over time I began to see just how badly my habit of reading began to dwindle. But this past Father’s Day, I got a new Kindle, and I immediately loaded Theros: Godsend, Part 1, a book I had on my fire that I had been trying to read for quite some time. And within the matter of a couple of days, I read more than I had when it was simply on my Fire. It wasn’t because I wasn’t interested in the book because the book was based on Magic the Gathering’s set of cards that were inspired by Greek Mythology and I love anything based on that subject.
Once I realized how much more I had read with the dedicated device I began to think about why I had been able to read so much more with the dedicated device. With such a chunk taken out of the book, I took a moment, and I started to honestly think about why I was having so much trouble reading the book when it was available on a device that wasn’t dedicated to reading. And just like that the answer clicked in my mind, a Fire is a tablet, and just like any tablet, it’s a mini computer which means there are other things to do than just read a book. A fact that will tempt even the most dedicated of readers from actually reading on the device. But when it comes to a dedicated Kindle, there is no choice but to read since that is what the device is designed for reading.
So go get a new Kindle e-reader and find either an old favorite or explore the store for a new entry and explore the world the words inside are creating.
]]>After escaping the shadowy individual Owen has to fight his way through a hoard of zombies, is arrested by the Mexican authorities, freed by his vampiric inlaws and his nemesis from the MCB Agent Franks. The MCB is tracking the individual responsible for the events in Mexico and assign a team to protect Owen Pitt from the Church of the Temporary Mortal Condition lead by that Shadowy man. And of course, since Owen is the chosen one he is blessed/cursed with visions, though this time they are visions of the people surrounding him when he touches them. These visions are used in just the right way to give Owen (and more importantly the reader) the information needed at only the right time.
Unfortunately for the chosen one and Monster Hunter International, it appears that a spy has infiltrated the company and at first no one believes it when the MCB tells them about it, but before long they have no choice but to accept the fact that someone has betrayed them. So once again MHI and Owen Pitt are forced to save the world, but they are being hampered every step of the way.
Again Larry Correia does a fantastic job of describing the weaponry used in the story with great detail that I’m sure fellow gun enthusiasts would drool over. In addition to the weaponry details, Correia does a fantastic job in making the characters as real as possible, coaxing genuine reactions from the events they find themselves dropped into. Correia followed his initial entry into the world of monster hunters with another great installment that a mature audience will find fascinating.
]]>The story follows an accountant, Owen Zastava Pitt, as he begins a radical shift in his career. The change started when he threw his boss out of the 14th floor of their office building. Now instead of being labeled a murderer, he was painted as a victim of a serial killer. Now in case, this doesn’t make any sense let me give the one crucial piece of information that allowed the accountant to legally thro his boss out of the window. His boss was a werewolf.
One of the things that saved Owen Pitt from being another faceless victim of a lycanthrope was that he is a gun nut (something that this author is known for). It also helped that he was a rather large and strong individual, but Pitt did not survive the battle unscathed. He managed to succeed in his struggle, but he almost died in the fight. Upon his survival, he was dropped into the real world of monsters, demons and other things that go bump in the night. His survival brought him to the attention of a group of monster hunters, Monster Hunter International, who quickly brought him into the fold.
Because Owen Z Pitt has cosmically drawn the short straw, it does not take him all that long before he is dropped right into the thick of fighting to save the world. Thanks to his flexible mind he is able to adapt to his new job fairly quickly, but will that flexible mind and his militant upbringing be enough to help him survive?
It is said that an author should know what he writes about and it is evident that Larry Correia knows a thing or two about weapons. There are details about weaponry in the book that even after the second pass through go right over my head. Despite the gun talk that goes over my head the author tells a tale that captivates me and pulls me into it from the first page to the very last. The characters are all type personalities, yet they somehow manage to come to life with the turn of each page.
]]>After the duchess and her entourage leave, Kenton begins to think about how he will resolve the fate of his diem. The story then briefly shifts to Kenton meeting with some of the people who had just voted to disband the Sand Masters, and at the second meeting, he runs into the duchess who informs Kenton that she will be assisting him to save the diem of the Sand Masters.
Aside from having to change the minds each and every person who voted to disband the Sand Masters’ diem, he is having to deal with assassins, a rival Sand Master seeking his own power and the general hatred and fear that diem has encouraged to grow in the light side of the planet. And while Kenton is doing what only a Sand Master can do the Duchess is trying to help in her own way and to find out what had happened to her betrothed.
The art, a beautiful mix of dark and gritty that graced the pages of the first installment continued to grace the pages through the first 5 chapters of this installment. Now while the artwork for the last chapter was still quite excellent it did change taking on a lighter tone, softening quite a bit yet somehow, it managed to keep the essence of the characters unchanged. It was an interesting twist that threw me for a moment, and it forces me to wonder what the change means for the art for the next and last installment of this story arc.
The storylines are continuing to wind beautifully together in a fantastic way, I am eagerly awaiting the last installment of the story, but until then I will keep looking through the pages of these two volumes to try and wring every last drop of information from their pages.
]]>When I let her out, she instantly ran into the park and started playing with everything, but her first target was the monkey bars. Of course, she needed a little help to get across, and I was happy to oblige. But when she had her fill with the monkey bars, she went to other parts of the park and just started to play. And as I watched over her, I was instantly transported back to my childhood through memories. And I remembered how I was eager and excited about the world held within the playground. Of course like any child, all she cared about right then was the playground, not any kind of responsibilities. Of course, that just made me think about all the things I have to do in my life from paying the bills all the way through dinner and everything in between.
Like anyone I can and unfortunately do let the world consume me all too often without taking time out to slow down and enjoy the world around me, but eventually, the world comes crashing down around us, and the daily requirements come nipping at our heels. Aside from the things required just to live, one of the most essential services in this day and age is our access to the internet. Be it our ability to work (telecommuting) or just how we unwind and relax from a hard day of work. We depend on them as the backbone of our day today, but they just seem not to care. If life were a movie, Telco companies would always be cast as villains, maybe not the lead villain, but at least one of their minions. And it is a fair role to cast these companies into. Though, as with all rules, there are some exceptions, most notably, the techs. But, anyone who has to deal with a customer in person can usually avoid this casting. After all, they have to deal with the angry customers after the company’s phone support just aggravates the customer to tears.
The most typical problem I’ve had with Telco Companies is their refusal to work with third-party modems. More than once I’ve tried to use my own modem that I bought instead of renting one of their modems, but they refuse to work with them, or more politically will not guarantee a flawless experience with them. Even when you use their equipment, sometimes it just doesn’t work. There was one time that I had customer service on the phone because I was unable to connect to the internet and they told me that modems just die every so often and that since I had mine for a couple of years that it was only time to replace it. The lack of immediacy on their end to replace a product they have designed to fail every so often is disgraceful. The fact that this equipment is designed to fail is, of course, just as unfortunate, especially when we pay as much as we do for their service.
However, the ultimate frustration that comes from some of these companies was when a customer service representative flat out refused to let me pay my bill over the phone. Seriously I tried to pay a bill over the phone, and one of their employees refused to accept it because I couldn’t remember my ex-wife’s SSN. To make this experience even worse when I asked her to transfer me over to her supervisor she refused to transfer me, in fact, she hung up on me. I was eventually was able to talk to someone who tried to apologize for that and let me pay them. Telco Companies need to do so much better with all of their customers, stories like mine should not exist. They just make too much money off us for things like that to be allowed to happen, especially when we have all of the responsibilities in our own lives.
]]>Now the beautiful thing about the MCU is that since most of the main characters have appeared in at least a single movie of their own. As a result, the audience has a connection to these characters (some deeper than others) that would just not have been possible without that buildup. While I want to keep this review as spoiler-free as possible, given the scope of these two Avengers movies it should go without saying that each and every main character has at least one impactful moment in the film. The flip side of that is that people who haven’t seen the movies with these characters might not have that connection, to fully appreciate the film. However, Marvel has done a fantastic job up to this point teasing the audience with Thanos’ ultimate plan of filling out his Infinity Gauntlet.
They also have explored the existence of five of the six accompanying Infinity Stones. With a name of Infinity War, the audience knows (or instead should expect) that Earth’s mightiest heroes will be fighting to keep Thanos from completing his collection of stones. I will let the movie answer whether or not the heroes are triumphant as it draws to a conclusion.
The movie starts right where Thor: Ragnarok left off, with the ship carrying the Asgardians floating in space with Thanos’ flagship hovering right in front of it. And from that moment till the credits begin to roll the movie goes from group to group as they begin to react with Thanos’ grab for the stones. Despite being the enemy of the film, Thanos is the character who we learn the most about during the course of the movie.
People who have watched any or all of the movies in the MCU should absolutely watch Infinity War at least once in theaters while it is there.
]]>The story begins with Marie and Alain on their way to Doorcastle to aid the city in its defense from the great guilds and the empire. Their journey was not without its dangers, but they are able to successfully lead their small collection of soldiers to the city dealing with all of the issues that come up displaying their determination and empathy for the people caught in the crosshairs of the antagonistic guilds.
Throughout the story, both Master Mechanic Marie’s and Mage Alain’s character are tested, and both stay true to their core. Neither wavier in their convictions or their ultimate desires. In fact, as Mage Alain continues his journey for the wisdom he manages to do something that no other mage had ever been able to do.
After having read The Pillars of Creation, I enjoyed the story that the series told; but I would have appreciated it if the author had written the books as complete stories in their own right. Instead, he wrote them as episodic stories, almost like episodes of a television show. Again the story is a good one that I enjoyed, and it is worth being read by anyone. However, I think it could have been better if the books had been written to stand entirely on their own.
]]>Black Panther’s prologue begins with a brief yet intriguing tale of Wakanda and an all too short exchange between a younger T’Chaka confronting his younger brother about his betrayal of their homeland. And it really did set the hook for the movie’s central storyline. Once the hook was established, we are promptly brought back to the present (about a week after the T’Chaka’s death) where T’Challa, the presumed new king of Wakanda, is searching for someone during his return home. The movie’s storyline progresses swiftly and unfolds as beautifully as the sun’s setting behind an expansive mountainscape. The characters, including the villains, brought to the screen all have a depth that leaves the audience wishing for their stories. Thanks to all that work we are able to wonder what they are going to do at crucial moments in the film right up until they make their choice and follow through with it.
The climax of the film manages to bring together all of its loose threads that came up in the movie weaving them together to form a tapestry that takes its place alongside the other great installments of the MCU. Once the film was over, I was excited about what might be in store for the next installment of the franchise and more importantly what he can bring to Avengers Infinity War.
]]>Having begun to restore the country of Tiae, Marie and Alain quickly realise that the banned texts they were forced to leave in Marandur, after the events of Book 2, are in danger and they must go back to recover them all in order to save the knowldge for the world. Both the Master Mechanics and the Empire would keep them for their own purposes rather than share, the problem is the city of Marandur lays in the heart of the Empire and just as before no one is allowed to enter. The mages and mechanics must work together in an effort to solve the problem and triumph.
As with each installment so far the characters are real, even the mages, and the plot moves at a good pace. I truely look forward to the last installment of this series to see how the adventures of Master Mechanic Mari and Mage Alain end.
]]>Just as with all of Sanderson’s works, White Sand has its unique form of magic, and just as always, it’s only available for a select few. But the world crafted here is just as impressive as the magic system, primarily since the two are linked together. The world is not like ours, where we have a firmly established day and night. On this world of Taladin one half lives with perpetual daylight while the other lives perpetually in the dark. Now the side of the planet that is continually bathed in the sun’s light is the home to those who wield the magic of Taladin, Sand Mastery. They can manipulate the sands to do wondrous things, which leaves the sands blackened and useless only the sun’s light can restore the sands to their white color.
As the title indicates this is not the complete story of White Sand, rather it is only the first part of the larger story that Sanderson has written. This volume’s main story arc follows Kenton, the son of the current Lord Mastrell. Its pacing is correctly done, and the action present is ideally placed in the story; managing to keep it moving along at an ideal pace, grabbing my eyes and keep them fixated on its pages. It is very evident that Sanderson paid just as much attention to the character development for any character that had substantial time in the volume, but since this is following Kenton’s was more deeply explored. We see the full use of his mind at different points in the story, leaning on his quick wits, his memory, and even his problem-solving. He shows himself to be a very passionate man, and when given the opportunity for growth he seizes it without hesitation.
When I reached the end of the volume I was hooked on the story, and I am eagerly awaiting its continuation and finally its conclusion, this will hopefully lay some pieces of the cosmere into place but that is a hope I am not entirely hanging onto, since this story seems to stand all on its own which is Sanderson’s goal with all of his works.
]]>The premise of the show did intrigue me, unfortunately for me, Andromeda aired while I was busy being obsessed with a pair of SciFi shows, The Invisible Man and Farscape. Both of those shows captivated me and kept my attention focused squarely on them. Though even at the time I do remember getting a few recommendations from people I knew and trusted that Andromeda was a show that I should watch. But for whatever reason, I just didn’t pay attention to those recommendations at the time. Even more interesting to me now was the fact that I was intrigued by Kevin Sorbo as the leading actor. I do have good (though admittedly skewed) memories of his portrayal of Hercules from when I watched that show as a younger man. So when I came across Andromeda available as part of Amazon Prime, I decided to finally give Andromeda the same chance most shows deserve to get.
When I started watching Andromeda, I was instantly pulled into the series. The characters are all well rounded and wonderfully developed, they all have their strengths and their weaknesses. Each episode of the show moves at a good pace as it explores its plot, while the series’ story develops and grows at an equally incredible pace. The series does have a satisfying conclusion, and it is a show that I will once again sit down and become captivated by just as everyone should at least once in their lives.
]]>The story does move along at a good pace bringing twists and turns that keep the reader eager to race to the next page. The existing characters continue to grow and show new depths while staying true as to who they are; which manages to keep them just as interesting as ever. While the new characters that this installment introduces are quickly developed, giving the world just that extra bit of depth that keeps the read fresh and exciting.
The major complaint I have with The Pirates of Pacta Servanda is that it is just like The Hidden Masters of Marandur in that I didn’t feel like there was a satisfactory conclusion of the story. With that comparison, I have hopes that The Servants of the Storm will bring me that satisfactory conclusion that I am hoping for. Even without the resolution of the main plot, the story was a fun read and is worth picking up.
]]>In fact, some of the more popular games like some of, the more recent Halo entries, like Halo 3, while its primary focus is its multiplayer game, have a rich campaign mode for gamers to adventure through. From the little bit I remember from when I last played the game, the campaign played very much like an interactive movie. It was a remarkable piece of storytelling.
Now my all-time favorite video game story is The Legend of Zelda: Ocarina of Time. I remember getting it for the Nintendo 64 and logging hour after hour playing it delving into the depths of the story. The story was and still is absolutely amazing. And despite being released in 1998, it is still a story that I remember and enjoy. I wish I could find the time to once more explore the world from start to finish.
And then there are some games like Star Wars Knights of the Old Republic has multiple endings and you reached a specific one based solely on how you played the game. It was sort of like a choose your own adventure book, with the exception that you got to experience the story in a much more visceral way.
But these are only three examples of video games with a very solid story. So the meat of the question is what makes a story? Or a more refined question would be what defines a story? I know that when I’m asked for a story, the first thing about is my favorite author, I’m sure that I’m not alone in that belief. But stories are no longer restricted to the pages of a book, the actors of a play or the silver screen. They are everywhere these days and numerous new formats. This is a very fledgling avenue for storytellers and as importantly for readers. While some people will ignore this new avenue they are wrong to do so, there are fantastic stories to delve into here and when you find one you should explore it just like the pages of a good book.
]]>In fact at the time, I could use a little extra money, so I pulled out my most valuable cards and went to a local game store entertaining the idea of selling them. Before I went to the store, I did some research into the what the cards were worth thankfully because the store was a little shady. So when the store gave me their insultingly low offer, I walked out my cards still in hand, and my collection continued to sit in my house untouched.
Shortly after my daughter and I moved into our new home in November of 2016, I bought a getting started pack of cards for my daughter and I. With a sense of nostalgia blooming as my daughter and I played our game, she was utterly uninterested in the game. While she liked the cards’ artwork, she was way too young to play the game. So again the new cards were added to the collection that sat collecting dust.
I don’t remember how the topic came up, but I was introduced to the cards that were inspired by Greek mythology, the Theros block. With my love of Greek Mythology, it was a powerful pull, but still, I kept the game at arm’s length. But as time went on, I pulled out the last deck that I had ever made, my sliver deck. I thumbed through the cards, and I felt the pull of the game, the desire to turn back the clock to a time when I was younger when I could embrace the sheer joy of collecting and playing Magic the Gathering, but I still kept the game at arm’s length.
It wasn’t until my birthday in 2017 that I finally broke down and got myself a booster box of Theros. While I like the idea of collecting again, what I wanted to be able to do was play the game again. And the idea of playing with cards, which drew upon the stories and characters from Greek mythology for inspiration, was too powerful a pull for me to ignore. Though I didn’t want to build a deck, I just wanted to play. Thankfully a friend introduced me to a format that doesn’t require deck building, pack wars. I had plenty of land and booster packs for the format, so all I needed was someone to play with.
Shortly after that purchase, I went to a different card store, just to see what cards they had, with my daughter. She enjoyed looking at all of the cards in the case and even the boxes that were on the wall, and I could see her interest grow. And the best part of that night was that the guy who was working there pulled out a booster pack of Hours of Devastation and handed it to my daughter for free. He wanted to encourage a new generation of Magic players.
And when we got home, she put her back down, and we pulled out two packs of Theros and played a game of pack wars. She instantly had a blast; it’s amazing what can change in a year’s time. And my love of the game was immediately revived, and I felt like I was back in high school. Even though I’ve had my love of the game renewed, I’m slowly returning to it merely because I need to ease back into it to make sure I don’t jump in too deeply. Magic the Gathering is a game that everyone should try at least once in their life, so find your local card/comic shop and explore the worlds that Magic the Gathering brings to life.
]]>Now I was not particularly satisfied with the ending of The Hidden Masters of Marandur but I was eager to see what this instalment has in store for Master Mechanic Mari and Mage Alain. Now the world that had a few pieces revealed in the previous book takes gets yet another large leap forward in development, and the world at large is starting to really take shape and what we are shown is fantastic.
The Assassins of Altis felt like the satisfying conclusion I was expecting from The Hidden Masters of Marandur. There were threads presented from the second book that were not used util this installment. Now those threads might very well surface later on in the series but book three did give me the closure that I did not get from the second one. It was not just the plot that got its satisfying conclusion, Marie and Alain grew and answered major questions that were simply unanswered previously.
]]>Some might think my question a poor one at best or ridiculous at worst. But when you stop and think about it, its value becomes apparent. Let me draw an analogy that might connect the dots a little more clearly. Most people would agree that lifting weights that target the same muscles day after day is not a good idea, or more accurately harmful to you. You need to let the muscles recover from their exertion, well tearing might be more accurate but that does not entirely matter. All that matters is the need for recovery. If you do not give your body the time, it needs to recover all you will accomplish is damaging your body instead of improving upon it.
Now as my cracked mind began its recovery, I began to examine all the various ways someone could ingest a story. Out of all of them, reading or even listening to a novel present the greatest challenge, not to mention effort, for your mind. These actions are essentially equivalent to the weightlifting analogy above, minus the actual tearing itself apart. When you consume a novel you are presented with a collection of words, now by themselves, those words have little meaning. It is not until a mind interprets those words that the scene takes on meaning. Once your imagination has begun this process, your mind keeps working and does not stop, well not until you stop taking in words from the page; this is by no measure a simple thing to do. And just like your body, your mind needs time to rest after heavy exertion, or you’ll start to crack it.
Now there are other ways to consume a story that put less strain on your mind, for example, a television show or a play. Even comic books present their readers with ways to consume stories without forcing your imagination to do any heavy lifting. With these stories everything is given to you, well almost everything is given to you. Granted plays and comic books do not have the depth of scenery that a television show can offer, but they give you enough. You are allowed instead to focus on the story itself. And these kinds of stories are the equivalent to healthy rest between workouts, and they are required to keep a mind healthy. So go ahead every once in a while and put the book away and instead get comfy on your couch and watch an episode or two of your favorite show or a good movie and give your mind a break.
]]>The story starts just as the previous one ended with the two separated having returned to their guilds. And they were both quickly tasked with assignments that they quickly discover were only assigned to have them killed in a way that their guilds would be blameless. In short order, they reunite and once again help each other to stay one step ahead of those aiming to kill them.
The love story that had begun in The Dragons of Dorcastle is deepened and strengthened in the book with Marie aiding Alaine in his attempt to regain his emotions, lost during his training as a mage. Though the lessons of life are not entirely one way, as Alaine is able to teach Marie a thing or two on their journey as well.
The book moves to at a good pace, yet it does not have the satisfying conclusion that the first book had. There is plenty of action and character development in the book that I am eagerly awaiting the next installment of the series.
]]>As always the depth of the main characters’ individual stories is done in amazing detail. In each installment of the Stormlight Archives, there has been a focused on one of the main characters, delving into their personal history. In this installment, we are treated to Dalinar Kholin’s backstory, a history that does not disappoint. We see his growth from the man who he was during the battles with his brother to unite Alethkar, to the birth or his son, Adolin and finally to the time he went to the Nightwatcher.
Of course, as I followed all the twists and turns of Dalinar’s history, I also watched the refounding of the Knights Radiant, under Dalinar’s guiding hand as he tries to not only unite Alethkar but all of Roshar. And with every passing new chapter of Dalinar’s history, both feet seem to grow further out of reach.
When I wasn’t following Dalinar, I was following the other major characters and Bridge 4 through their story arcs. Kaladin’s story picks up right where it left off racing back to his hometown. The twists and turns he goes through stretch him as a character and bring him to life in a way that rivals the telling of his own story from The Way of Kings, while Shallan’s arc has her trying to reconcile her abilities with who she truly is, at the core of herself. Meanwhile, Bridge 4 continues its growth and development as its members, stretching their limits and develop their abilities.
However, it would not be a proper Brandon Sanderson epic without delving into the story arcs of various supporting characters. And of course, he does not disappoint in this regard as we find ourselves being guided through new and important viewpoints that expand and grow the story Brandon Sanderson is growing with every installment.
Brandon Sanderson wove all of these storylines and more together masterfully, keeping me engaged and wanting to continue turning the pages. The revelations discovered within the text of Oathbringer deepened my understandings of Roshar, successfully deepening my desire for the next installment of the series.
]]>Now with my Greek myth background out of my system, I first read The Lightning Thief just as the movie was released in 2010. Instead of catching the movie first, I enjoyed the book. Now fast forward to the present day. I listened to the story again, though this time with my daughter. The story is about the Greek gods and their half-blood (demigod) children. But Rick Riordan does a phenomenal job of bringing Greek mythology into the present day. So yes the gods do exist, and just like myths of old, they have trouble staying away from the mortals. So as the base of Western Civilization has moved so did the gods.
Now, what would mythology be without the monsters like the Minotaur or the furies or even Medusa? The answer, nothing. It simply would not be the same. So how does Riordan accomplish bringing these beloved monsters to the present day? Simple, they can never truly be killed. They will eventually pull themselves back together. So since the gods cannot seem to stop themselves from having demigod children and all of those monsters never really die there is a perfect storm for new tales.
Enter Percy Jackson, son of the sea god. You might have been able to guess that from the cover and, if you did not, he gets claimed by Poseidon. It happens fairly early on so it is not really a spoiler. We are wonderfully guided through this new myth, all the way from Percy’s ignorance to the completion of his quest. This was a wonderful story to share with my daughter as she would get ready for bed, which is appropriate, considering Riordan crafted this tale as his own son’s bedtime story.
]]>And now that I have an eight-year-old daughter I keep coming to a realization that my first fantasy book brought me to how pleasurable reading can be. But now, beyond the enjoyment, I pull from the pages I have come to realize the importance of reading all over again. Children are told by parents (myself included), their teachers and even society that reading is important. I do not want my little one to grow up without learning how important and how much fun reading actually is. But just like me, she would much rather watch TV or a movie than actually read a good book. And with the busy lives we lead, we rarely get to have even thirty minutes just to dedicate to reading together.
But what makes reading so important? Is it the spark it gives to our imagination, the access to history it provides or is it simply the use in our everyday lives? In short, it is all of these things and more.
There are many different reasons to read but the first that jumps to my mind is the spark reading can provide to our imaginations. That feeling we get when we explore the world created by an author of a book of fiction is indescribable. It does not matter if the world is of their own making or if the story was set in the real world. There is always a setup that the author has to lay down, and it is that setup that lets our minds explore the world in their story. Books can take us anywhere the author wants and the words they use enable us to create those landscapes in our minds. That use of our imaginations is something that helps us grow, and that growth is crucial for a well-developed mind.
One of the most memorable quotes I have ever heard is those who do not learn history are doomed to repeat it. It is a slight variation on the original quote, but its truth is still relevant. There are multiple ways to learn history: we can be told about our history, examine the civilizations of the past by their ruins or we can read about our history. And I’m not just speaking about the ancient past. The printed word, the internet or newspapers all contain a written account of what people say and do and we need to be able to learn and grow seeking to be better than those who came before us.
Beyond growing as a person or sparking our imagination, writing is everywhere in our lives. From driving down the highway or reading a list of ingredients, the printed word is everywhere and we need to be able to function in our day to day lives. Now not being able to read the signs on the highway will not cripple us nor will not be able to read a list of ingredients on a box of cereal. But we will be crippled when we cannot read contracts, memos or various other work-related papers. Now there are professions that limit this requirement but it is not completely removed from those professions. The requirement to read is going to be ever present in our lives.
And the best way to develop our minds and prepare ourselves for life is to read. And I will be the first to admit that reading something you don’t enjoy can be trying but sometimes necessary. But there are plenty of genres to explore so that one will be able to capture your imagination.
]]>Well I ended up looking at my library and I decided to crack open one of the newer books in my library and I have to say it was a very rewarding experience. The Dragons of Doorcastle is an interesting book set in a very intriguing world. When you look at its cover you are treated to a display of someone holding a gun, another individual wearing ornate robes and a dragon’s head. So right away it teased about a world with magic and handguns. A combination that is not completely unique but still highly fascinating to me. As the story unfolded we find that we are in the middle of a blending of fantasy and steampunk elements.
The story, the first in a series by Jack Campbell, follows two main characters one from each of the two main guilds, the Mages, and the Mechanics. There is a lot of backstories hidden from the audience and I hope that it is explored in more details as the series unfolds, particularly the inherent hatred between the two guilds. But this lack of knowledge did not take away from the quality of the story, in fact, it helped to intensify one of the later sub-plot points of the book. This was a plot point that began to appear late in the story and it did so in a very organic and pleasant way. The story was very well developed and complete and it moved at a good pace, yet it managed to hint at enough that I am excited to pick up the next book in the series and see how it continues.
]]>I have enjoyed the tale time and time again going so far as to play the first few minutes of the audiobook to people I know who havent read the book yet, and so far everyone has instantly loved the book and started laughing at the main character’s wit. The fact that the story is so quick to grab the reader’s enjoyment is a great reaffirmation that this book is the first of a five-book series. So if you haven’t yet read the first instalment of Alcatraz’s autobiography then you should get yourself a copy in any format and enjoy Alcatraz Smedry telling the world his true history.
]]>How and when I read the book is irrelevant, all that matters now is how good the story is. I have had a friend tell me that he could tell from the writing that this was Sanderson’s first story. I never noticed that. But that could easily be because I am so easy to forgive flaws when the accompanying story is strong. And that is where Elantris excels. The storyline is broken down into three sections, each ‘narrated’ by one of the three main characters. To me this round robin narration was ingenious in the telling of this tale.
Now the only issue I have with the story is that Sanderson has not yet re-entered this fictional world. Well, that is not entirely true; The Emperor’s Soul is set in the same world as per Brandon Sanderson. But to me it lacks the immediate recognition that it is set in the same world as Elantris.
One of Sanderson’s recent blog posts says he should be working on its sequel in the near future. I’m definitely excited about this and will look forward to its eventual release. But in the mean time anyone who has yet to read this should do so immediately; while those who have read it well, they should pick up their copy and re-read it.
]]>As the last seconds of Farscape came to a close, most fans, if they were like me, were rather annoyed at the emptiness of the show’s conclusion. Farscape was too good a show to die alongside Aeryn and Crichton, not to mention those mocking words, “To Be Continued…” But that was how the last episode concluded, the two stars turned into a pile of particles, paired with a lamenting Ka D’Argo. And for almost twenty months we had nothing to settle that chilling scene, that is, nothing until the The Peacekeeper Wars.
This was originally aired as a two part mini-series that picked up right where the show had left off, well 60 solar days later. Most of the elements that drew people to the original series still hold true here. Moya’s crew, while preparing for a joyous occasion, is instead thrown into their greatest misadventure to date, a galaxy wide war between two heavyweight empires. To any fan of Farscape, this mini-series rewards our patience with the sense of closure that was missing in the original finale. We were treated to the ending that the show truly deserved. To any who have not seen the series, you could watch this little mini-series and be entertained; but, to fully appreciate it, you should really watch the show first. And of course Aeryn and Crichton survived their fateful events of the first finale but, if you want to know how they survived, you should go watch The Peacekeeper Wars.
]]>Like all of his previous fantasy work, Sanderson has created an entirely new system of ‘magic’ for this new world. What would you do if pictures you drew in chalk came to life? There are a few in this world who gained this ability, they are known as Rithmatists. It is their responsibility to protect the rest of the isles from the deadly wild chalklings that pour out of The Tower located on the isle of Nebrask. These creatures, as you would imagine, are made entirely of chalk and they will eat the flesh from a man’s body. Once a Rithmatist graduates from one of the eight Rithmatic schools, they serve the isles on the front lines of Nebrask.
Within the first few ‘pages’ I was cheering for the main character, a non-Rithmatic student named Joel Saxon. He has managed to attend one of the most prestigious schools that teach Rithmatics in the United Isles of America. Joel, not to mention I, instantly take a dislike to the school’s newest employee, Professor Nalizar. He has recently returned from the front lines of Nebrask and has come to the school seeking to improve the education of Rithmatists; and, at the same time he ensures that non-rithmatist students like Joel are unable to interfere with that learning. Fortunately for Joel, he does manage to find a way to fulfill his greatest desire, studying Rithmatics, and he is able to do it with the school’s oldest and most beloved employees, Professor Fitch. In fact, if it were not for Joel’s dedication to what he believes is right, disaster would have fallen upon the people of the American Isles.
This story by itself is excellent; so the excellence of its narrator simply sealed the deal for me. With every word I was pulled deeper into the threats that permeated the story, which in turn drove me to find every spare second available to consume this story. I have come to expect nothing but excellence from Michael Kramer. I have never been dissatisfied letting his voice guide me through an author’s tapestry. Sanderson’s ending does leave the door open for further sequels which I fervently hope he explores and hopefully Michael Kramer is equally eager to offer his voice.
]]>Now everyone has the right to his own opinion. And it’s obvious that some people are offended by the name. But according to a survey done by the National Annenberg Election Survey (this is a project of the Annenberg Public Policy Center of the University of Pennsylvania) only nine percent of Native Americans are outraged. The survey ran from October 7th, 2003 through September 20th, 2004 and asked the opinions of 768 people who identified themselves as Native Americans. Out of the other ninety-one percent, one percent had no answer while ninety percent had no problem with the name being used by a professional sports franchise.
The Redskins were not originally known as the Redskins; in fact, they were not originally based in Washington. The team began as the Boston Braves back in 1932. It might be hard to imagine now, but back in the early thirties, pro football was not a popular sport; it was in its infancy. So, in an effort to gain relevance, most of the new football teams used their city’s baseball team’s name for marketing. And the National League baseball team in Boston was the Boston Braves. The Football Braves even shared the field with the baseball franchise. The field was known as Braves Field. This was not a hard decision for the owner at the time to make. But without a publicized reason, the very next season the team’s name changed to the name it would carry to this day, the Redskins.
The most popular reason behind choosing the team’s name, to honor the Native American head coach might very well be moot. There is evidence that William Henry “Lone Star” Dietz was not a Native American; so I will discount this commonly alleged reason given for the name. Now there is something that should be known; and, that is, that a Native American helped to design the team’s current logo. Walter Wetzel was a former chairman of the Blackfoot Tribe as well as the president of the National Congress of American Indians, as well as the spark for the famous logo. In an article from mu-warrior.blogspot.com, Mark Fisher quotes Walter Wetzel:
I said, ‘I’d like to see an Indian on your helmets,’
It made us all so proud to have an Indian on a big-time team. . . . It’s only a small group of radicals who oppose those names. Indians are proud of Indians.
Turning from history to the current events, star quarterback RGIII recently tweeted “In a land of freedom we are held hostage by the tyranny of political correctness”. According to one article, this tweet was posted shortly after it was learned that D.C. Council member David Grosso would be attempting to push for a change in the team’s name through the law. Griffin later went on to define tyranny in another tweet. “Tyranny – a condition imposed by some outside agency or force living under the tyranny of the clock, or political correctness….”
In this day and age, the culture seems to be encouraging people to take offense at the slightest provocation. After all, anything that makes any individual “feel” uncomfortable must be done away with. That is a very low threshold. It creates a lot of angry people. And angry people make for an angry society. Is that really what we want?
]]>However, more often than not, a book’s storyline will show its true merits, either good or bad, when it is read aloud. And, as with every rule, there are exceptions, and none is as glaring as an abridged audio book. So, for this discussion, we will assume that there exist no abridged texts anywhere in the world. What will take an excellent book to the next level? The simplest answer is an excellent narrator. Two examples of such narrators are Michael Kramer and Kate Reading who, among their other works, share the narration of Robert Jordan’s The Wheel of Time series. They each have the capability on their own to make the words come alive in the minds of the listeners. Each is capable of delivering the results similar to that of a full cast unaided, which I believe to be an absolutely indispensable skill for any narrator.
Another attribute that I believe to be a requirement is that the narrator’s voice seems to fit the personality of the central character. Two perfect examples are James Marsters, of Buffy the Vampire Slayer fame, and Nick Podehl. James Masters voice, at least the voice that naturally flows with his readings of The Dresden Files, just meshes with what I think the voice of Harry Dresden should be. While this natural voice is perfect for Dresden, Masters is able to voice the other main characters in such a way that feels natural. Where this guideline gets a little tricky to ‘enforce’ is in novels that do not utilize a 1st person narrative. Books such as The Name of the Wind utilize the omniscient observer narrator. But Nick Podehl, while narrating this book, manages to voice not only a good cast of characters but he also manages to identify with the central character latching onto him. While I do measure all narrators on this skill, it is not something I do in a measured or calculating way. They either have that skill or they do not. But the ones who do have it really have crafted something entertaining.
And, in my opinion, when it comes to a series, it is paramount to maintain a single narrator. With each passing book a single narrator grows with the performance, learning more about the characters he is giving voice to. This growth goes both ways; as the narrator grows with the specific characters, so does the fans’ fervor grow for the narrator. The Dresden Files from the first book, Storm Front, to the twelfth book, Changes, had James Masters voicing the characters. The thirteenth book was done by John Glover, who did a decent job, but he was not the official voice of the series, and the fans let Jim Butcher know about their displeasure.
I believe that these are the major requirements for a good narrator. I have found quite a few narrators whom I consider to be excellent and, by looking through their work, I have found other good stories I would not have found otherwise.
]]>The official reasons for his being forced out are not central to the plot of the novel and, hence, not really explored. That said, in the little time the main character talks about it, I was left to believe he broke some major rules, one of which was stealing more of the drug from the Guild. He had been reduced to a consultant for the police force, every day interviewing the hardest cases. Paraphrasing his words, he has the capability of pulling rabbits out of the hat and so he is pulled into a serial killer case. And the top brass are hoping he can find them their rabbit.
The story was well written and entertaining. Not using the main character’s name until the last lines of the book was an interesting technique, one that can allow the reader to have a closer and deeper connection with this flawed character. Flawed though he is, he manages to make strides throughout the book and not just through the plot. He grows not only as a man, but as a person, fighting his addiction as best he can. The most telling manifestation of his growth comes when he is beaten and bruised and he walks away for all the right reasons, though he does grumble about it a little. His struggle with his addiction plays a major role throughout the storyline, however, the real crux of the book is a murder mystery and we are not left wanting here.
While the main telepath discovers the murder’s identity about halfway to three quarters of the way through, the cops need real, tangible proof. And so, the rest of the book deals with the gathering of that proof. My one complaint would have to be that over the course of the novel the author drops a lot of references to an event that took place about sixty years prior to the start of the book, the Tech Wars. Yes, the Tech Wars were bad and yes, they scared the populace; but how did they accomplish this? What was so bad with what happened? Alex Hughes simply does not delve deeply into this telling event. But, since Clean is the first novel in The Mindspace Investigation series I will assume that this will be explored piecemeal over the next installments.
With the kindle copy of clean I was able to reasonable add the professional narration performed by Daniel May. This narrator is no Michael Kramer, or even James Marsters. Nevertheless, he feels right for the main character, which is important, especially since this book is told from his point of view. May is weak with female voices and is even unable to really make clear distinctions between the voices of the female characters. This makes it paramount to pay extra attention to how each scene is set. But as I said he fits the main character like a glove and for that I can excuse the lack of character diversity.
]]>As with any human decision, it can be wrong, very wrong, as seen from above. The nice thing that KDP gives authors is an easy way to publish their own work, without the oversight of a publishing house. Now I understand why publishing houses are reticent to take a chance on new authors. It costs an exorbitant amount of money to publish a book. And so they have to carefully predict whether or not the book will be a money maker. If they think the answer is “no” then they will not publish the book. Thus, a potentially good author is never found. This approach stands in stark contrast to KDP, where anyone can publish anything he wants. The author in question could be established or he could be breaking into the industry while holding down his day job. The playing field has been nicely leveled. Well, mostly leveled. The big names are still the big names, but now anyone has the chance to become the next big name. The one major drawback to this model is that without the publishing house the author has to do more than just write his story. Without the publishing house the author is his own editor, publicist, graphic designer, etc…
Now with this flood of independent authors there will be a flood of lower quality books — it just happens. As an example there are not teams of editors pouring over the texts making sure each one is pristine. There is also little in the way of publicity, though with social media like Facebook and Twitter this gap is diminishing by degrees. So while the consumer now has to wade through a mess of unwanted excess, he has a good chance of discovering something new and exciting. This is a fantastic time to be a storyteller. And this is a fantastic time to take a chance, with all the tools that are available to budding young authors.
]]>The adventures of — no I cannot say that with a straight face, let alone type with one — rather, the misadventures of Commander John Crichton and the criminals he helped to free were on the air for four seasons. And for those four seasons I tuned to the SciFy Channel Friday night to watch each and every new story unfold. Right up until the last episode; and that one made me sick to my stomach. For those who are unfamiliar with the show, when the last episode was completed “To be Continued” flashed across the screen. I knew the show was coming to an end, I had prepared myself for it, but the ending I had been presented with was too heart wrenching. So much so, that I had to fight with myself to keep from flushing the good memories of the show. However, there was something I did not know at the time. The show was originally supposed to run for five seasons. So what should have been a preparation for the next season instead turned into an unfortunate cliffhanger.
Despite the ending of the show’s last episode, I still have a desire to watch reruns of this truly unique and original show. The depth and breadth of the show was, in large part, thanks to some very ingenious work on behalf of Jim Henson’s Creature Shop and, for their diligence and creativity, they should be applauded. The show is currently available on Netflix for those who have yet to watch this crew’s misadventures in the Uncharted Territories. Or even for those who have already witnessed them and just would like a chance to revisit those “adventures” once more.
]]>The author, Patricia Wrede, does a phenomenal job, taking all of the typical story book motifs and turning them on their head. Princess Cimorene is not your typical princess. She loves to fence, cast spells, cook and even conjugate Latin verbs. She refuses to be the traditional princess her parents want her to be. And so, as her parents prepare to marry her off to some prince, as is the proper thing to do, she runs away and ends up volunteering to be a dragon’s princess. Since she now gets to do most of the things she wants to do anyway, this is perfect for her. However, she does have to put up with all the knights attempting to “rescue” her from her dragon, Kazul.
I do not want to spoil the overall story, but in the end Cimorene does manage to be in the right place to save the day for all the dragons. If you want to discover all the details you’ll need to read the book, or, at least, listen to it. The story is well thought out and quite cleverly delivered. And for those who might be wondering, the performance for the audiobook does a respectable enough job to keep you entertained from beginning to end. I would have preferred the book to have been voiced by a fantastic narrator, but the cast does a good enough job pulling me into this unclassic tale.
]]>So far I have listened to the first four books plus the prequel, New Spring. I am waiting for the audio book version of Fires of Heaven to get the whispersync for voice treatment before I consume that story. So I decided to do a review of what I have read while I wait for the next book. As I am finally reading the series, I have started by reading what other people have said about the series. On the web one of the biggest complaints I have found happens to be one I at least partially agree with, and it is that Jordan was too verbose without reason. Now for the most part I think these comments are baseless, but there have been a few scenes over the course of the first “five” books that I think he could have trimmed up without losing anything of substance. Who knows, maybe I just haven’t yet developed the patience necessary to appreciate his occasionally meandering scene settings. But even putting my opinion aside, the story being woven has been nothing short of engrossing.
Now I am not going to try to summarize five full novels for you in just a handful of paragraphs. That would be quite silly. If you want synopses of each book, I highly recommend Wikipedia. What I will say is this: the story of Rand al’Thor and his childhood friends has filled my commute with excitement and wonder. Jordan does a masterful job blending multiple story arcs together in a way that is both pleasing and compelling. As any one of any book’s story arcs would begin to bubble with activity he would jump away from it in order to develop another. And sometimes he will insert what appears to be a random scene, but as with any good storyteller, he is just planting seeds for the future.
Now since I never actually read these books I suppose I should talk about the two narrators, Michael Kramer and Kate Reading. The first thing I should mention is that these two narrators ARE the voice of The Wheel of Time series. Over the twenty or so years it has taken to complete the series, they have narrated each and every book without fail. They are also simply two of the best narrators I have had the pleasure of listening to. Each is more than capable of creating a semblance of a full cast, with apparent ease. In each book, as the point of view shifts from a male character to one of the female characters, so too do the narrators switch. Now since these characters are often grouped together, at first the difference between their voices was disorienting; but, with the passing of each book, that has diminished. Now my mind simply registers the obvious shift in the point of view. This series has so far given me a very pleasant way to pass my daily commute and I look forward to the Fires of Heaven becoming available so I can continue this series.
]]>The one thing of Odysseus’ character which remains constant from Homer’s Odyssey to the Philoctetes is his great intelligence. In the Odyssey he uses his intelligence to defeat the Cyclops and to set the trap for the suitors — to name a few of his mental feats. He uses his mental prowess to overcome obstacles that could not be overcome in any other way. However in the Philoctetes his intelligence is used in nefarious ways. He attempts to use lies and deceit to relieve Philoctetes of his bow, and Philoctetes curses Odysseus because of his intelligence. The connection is inferred between Sparta and Odysseus, concerning Odysseus’ strength (his intelligence) as compared to the Spartans’ strength (the intelligence of their military). Odysseus’ grand plan concocted by his superb intelligence is unsuccessful. His lack of success helps the Athenians believe that, just like Odysseus, strength is not enough to be successful in the end and that the Spartans might be unsuccessful as well. This thought helps push the Athenians forward into the end of the Peloponnesian war where they are victorious.
With the conclusion of the Philoctetes, Odysseus comes out as the villain of the play, not as a hero like he is in the Odyssey. The story of the Philoctetes pits Philoctetes, the play’s hero, against Odysseus, through Neoptolemus, until the end. Odysseus is more than content to steal the bow and leave Philoctetes on the island of Lemnos, without any way to survive. This quality can be projected onto the Spartans. The Spartans are the evil enemy of the Athenians and their cause is right.
Odysseus starts his literary life off as one of the Greek heroes, a great legend, a friend to all men, in Homer’s Odyssey. No good thing can last forever, and for Odysseus it is his status as one of the more honorable Greek warriors. His character is taken by Sophocles and through a myriad of twists and turns is turned into an absolute villain, a coward. This transformation starts in the Ajax and is concluded in the Philoctetes. The first casualty of literary creation lost to Odysseus is the courage which he possessed in the Odyssey. The loss is a minor thing in the Ajax; since, Odysseus manages to save face when confronted by the ‘loss’. Sadly there is no such attempt to protect the disgrace of cowardice in his portrayal in Sophocles’ second play, the Philoctetes. The performance in the Philoctetes portrays Odysseus as not only a coward but as compassionless. He seems to care nothing for the good of his comrades in arms in the play when he decides to place his own ego over the Greeks success against Troy. However, the intelligence for which this famous warrior is known remains in tact, but it is no longer used for noble purposes. Instead, it is used for selfish goals. In the Odyssey, Odysseus uses his intelligence to save his life, to defeat his enemies, while maintaining his honor. In the Philoctetes, Odysseus uses his mind to try to trick Philoctetes out of Heracles’ bow, the man’s only means of survival. Neoptolemus at first questions the use of lies to steal away Philoctetes bow, but is quickly convinced by Odysseus that the ends justify the means and so is ready to play his part. Through all these twists and turns Odysseus losses everything Homer had given to him at the end of the Odyssey. He has become comparable to one of the suitors whom he had killed upon his return home from Troy. Odysseus has become a cowardly, evil man – in short, a Spartan, through her allies.
I hope you have enjoyed reading my old Greek myth paper.
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 Ajax translated by E.F. Wlting
Philoctetes translated by E.F. Watling
Ed. William H. Harris, and Judith S Levey
The New Columbian Encyclopedia 4th edition
Columbia University Press, New York, 1975
The book’s cover art, or lack thereof is, is essentially the book’s ad. Coupled with the title, the picture should give the reader a very, very basic idea of what to expect. If the cover is well designed and well-drawn, it will capture peoples’ eyes, compelling them to take another closer look. This in fact helped me discover Brandon Sanderson’s work. The cover for The Hero of Ages was able to captivate me into picking up the book and reading the cover. And the cover held some favorable comparisons so I filed the name of the author and trilogy away for future reading. And within a few days I ended up purchasing the first book on my kindle and I found a brand new favorite author.
Even big name authors, like Brandon Sanderson have used cover art to find books to read. In an article he wrote for TOR’s website, Sanderson spoke of his journey into the world of literature and how a particular artist’s work impacted that journey. The artist that drove young Sanderson is Michael Whelan and according to the article the first example of the man’s work was gracing the pages of Dragonsbane. Sanderson went on to outline his journey into literature, specifically the fantasy genre, and credited everything, even his writing, to Whelan’s imaginative and realistic cover art. The article concludes, fittingly enough, mentioning the fact that Sanderson’s The Way of Kings is graced with a Whelan cover.
Now as strong as Whelan’s pull was for Sanderson, there are books with covers so bad that we hurry our gaze past them. We refuse to acknowledge their existence. To justify our refusal we think of excuses why we continued past the book. We tell ourselves that the cover looked as if it had been drawn by a child, and if the author let a child draw his cover then the writing must not be that far off.
Is it fair that we judge a book’s worth simply with a glance at a title and a picture?
No.
Is this practice likely to stop just because we know that it is not fair?
Again the answer is no.
Should we try to look past the cover and read the first few lines, or pages of any given book?
I think we should give that practice a try, at least just a little more often.
]]>Sophocles’ version of the Philoctetes is not the first ever written, however it is the first to have the island (that Philoctetes was stranded on) be a desert island. With the change of settings, Odysseus’ honor is absolutely destroyed, leaving a crippled man on a land, where a healthy man would have trouble surviving. The reason why Odysseus engendered the desertion of Philoctetes is because he had become a burden to the rest of the Greeks (526, Powell). Instead of keeping his honor and showing compassion towards Philoctetes by sending him home, he orchestrates Philoctetes’ abandonment on Lemnos (p. 163, Philoctetes). The option of sending Philoctetes home seems as if it were never explored and the Greeks just did not care if they left the man on the island to die. Philoctetes makes several requests of Neoptolemus to take him home, “Son I beseech you, do not leave me here … If I am brought home … And fetch me home” (p. 178-9, Philoctetes). Eventually Neoptolemus agrees to bring the crippled man home and tells him so, “We’ll go, then, as soon as you’ve got whatever you need” (p. 184, Philoctetes).
After Philoctetes hears that Odysseus is coming, he wants to set sail for home immediately, but Neoptolemus says they must wait for the wind to favor them (p. 183 Philoctetes). Philoctetes then tells Neoptolemus, “All winds are fair, when death is on your heels” (p. 184, Philoctetes). Philoctetes’ remark plays on the idea that he could have been sent home no matter what the wind conditions were like instead of being abandoned by his fellow Greeks. However in the end Philoctetes wonders if Neoptolemus will fulfill his promises, “Our hands on it, to see me safely home” (p. 210 Philoctetes). He simply responds, “Yes, let us go” (p. 210 Philoctetes), deciding to take the honorable path, by fulfilling his oath. Odysseus’ one great desire throughout the entire Odyssey, is to return home to his wife and child. On the way to Troy he abandons Philoctetes on an island where he would have no chance of getting home and thereby shows his true hypocrisy. He denies the man the one thing that he, himself, desires above everything else — to return home.
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 5 Ajax translated by E.F. Wlting
Philoctetes translated by E.F. Watling
Ed. William H. Harris, and Judith S Levey
The New Columbian Encyclopedia 4th edition
Columbia University Press, New York, 1975
Having lowered Odysseus’ stature to that of a normal man, Sophocles characterizes Odysseus as a coward, which prompts the Athenian audience to connect Odysseus’ cowardice to the Spartans. The type of cowardice Odysseus displays is a base fear of death, and so Sophocles also brings the Spartans down from being an unbeatable force to normal men, who will balk in the face of death. The degradation of the Spartans is important since the war had raged on for twenty-two years with no end in sight — around the time the play is produced. And since the Spartans possess one of the greatest armies in the ancient world, the degradation becomes even more important. It becomes a way to help bolster the morale of the Athenians.
The fact that Sophocles uses one of the heroes from the Trojan War, Odysseus, to compare to the Spartans only strengthens their desired symbolic degradation. The reason the degradation is strengthened is simply because Odysseus was originally such an important and grand figure in their mythology, especially in the Odyssey. Odysseus’ escape to his base fears in times of desperation would imply that the Spartans would in times of desperation do the same. The reason Sophocles would desire Odysseus’ bravery to be stripped from him would be to show the Spartans lack of bravery. The slandering of the Spartans would help the Athenians carry on with the war in the hopes for absolute victory, which all Greeks sought after, due to their competitive nature (Weaire).
Despite having Odysseus maintain a firm grasp on his honor even with his cowardice in the Ajax, Sophocles decides to rip away Odysseus’ honor in the Philoctetes. In the beginning of the Philoctetes, Odysseus is talking to Neoptolemus, in hopes to use him in order, “To trick Philoctetes” (p.165, Philoctetes). Also in the same breath Odysseus spins a yarn for Neoptolemus to tell Philoctetes in hopes that Neoptolemus would gain Philoctetes’ trust (p.165, Philoctetes), thereby making it easy for Neoptolemus to bring Philoctetes and his bow to Troy. Deception comes easily for Odysseus as shown by his remark to Neoptolemus, “To lie, or act deceitfully … We shall be justified in the end” (p. 166, Philoctetes). In comparison to Neoptolemus, who retains his honor in the end, Odysseus never seeks for forgiveness in a hope of recovering his honor. Since Neoptolemus is helping Odysseus He will be considered an ally of Sparta, until he does seek for forgiveness and the Athenians willingly accept his help. Demonstrated by Philoctetes hope that Neoptolemus keeps his word to fetch him home (p. 210, Philoctetes). Neoptolemus, at first refuses to lie to Philoctetes and tells Odysseus, “there are things that offend my conscience Even in hearing … Deceit is not my nature” (p.166, Philoctetes). Neoptolemus’ initial desire not to deceive Philoctetes is strengthened when he says, “I’d rather beat this man By force than by deception” (p. 166, Philoctetes). Neoptolemus’ initial reluctance and the his seeking for forgiveness shows that he believes he has lost honor and can only recover it through his forgiveness. Odysseus assures Neoptolemus, and acquires his cooperation, by telling him, “You will never persuade him, still less take him by force” (p. 167, Philoctetes). With that Neoptolemus is finally convinced to use deception on Philoctetes in order to capture both him and his bow (Philoctetes).
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 4 | Part 5 Ajax translated by E.F. Wlting
Philoctetes translated by E.F. Watling
Ed. William H. Harris, and Judith S Levey
The New Columbian Encyclopedia 4th edition
Columbia University Press, New York, 1975
So I constantly am searching out stories of my favorite professional wizard. Side Jobs is a nice collection of all the short stories that Butcher has published; it was quickly purchased and read. But I always seem to be searching for more; so, when I saw Welcome to the Jungle , I jumped on the story. This four part comic book, sorry graphic novel, ran from April to July of 2008, shortly after Small Favor was published.
Despite being released between the aforementioned Small Favor and Turn Coat, chronologically this mini-series occurs before the events of Storm Front. For those who are already familiar with the life of Harry Dresden the familiar comforts are all there. And for those who have yet to be exposed to the life of Chicago’s only professional Wizard this is an excellent beginning to Harry Dresden’s world of investigation.]]>Propaganda is a tool often and widely used during times of war in hopes of bolstering one’s citizens and soldiers, and demoralizing the enemy. As a form of propaganda the Philoctetes compares Odysseus to the Spartans and Philoctete to the Athenians. Shortly after Philoctetes enters the play, he and Neoptolemus start up a conversation, during which Philoctetes tells Neoptolemus, “The hand of Odysseus, the hands of the sons of Atreus” (p. 174, Philoctetes). This is in reference to his abandonment by Odysseus, who claims responsibility earlier in the play (p. 163, Philoctetes). In response to hearing Philoctetes’ story of woe, Neoptolemus tells him, “I have suffered too At the hands of the sons of Atreus, and the hand of Odysseus” (p. 174, Philoctetes). Atreus is the father of Agamemnon and Menelaus, the King of Sparta. For Philoctetes to call Odysseus “the hands of the sons of Atreus” (p. 174, Philoctetes), he is reducing Odysseus to a tool of an ally of Menelaus. He is connecting Odysseus to the Spartans for everyone Athenian in the audience. This connection is helped along by Neoptolemus’ remark lumping Menelaus and Odysseus together in one breath.
In an effort to further link Odysseus to Sparta, Neoptolemus continues his tale of woe to Philoctetes and eventually tells him, “these we have already given to someone else – to Odysseus” (p. 175, Philoctetes). This is in reference to Agamemnon and Menelaus giving Achilles’ arms to Odysseus instead of Neoptolemus, who rightfully deserves his father’s arms (Philoctetes). This again emphasizes Odysseus’ connection to Sparta. With the brothers’ decision to give the arms of the greatest Greek warrior to a man such as Odysseus, instead of to the son, even though he arrives after the arms are given, shows special treatment to Odysseus. This is similar to a nation’s desire to keep their allies happy during time of difficulty, like war. After hearing Neoptolemus’ tale in full, Philoctetes remarks, “I recognize the handiwork Of the brothers and Odysseus” (p. 176, Philoctetes). Philoctetes could have easily just said Odysseus or just the brothers, yet he comments on how the “handiwork” reminds him of both. His statement strengthens the audience’s mental connection of Odysseus with Sparta.
Finally, Odysseus’ homeland itself is connected with Corinth. The New Columbia Encyclopedia states that the “remains of a Corinthian colony circa 8th century B.C. have been found [in Ithaca]” (Harris). Ithaca might or might not have been a colony of Corinth during the Peloponnesian War, but it was at one point in its history. The connection to Corinth might have been known. This would be particularly important to the Athenians since Corinth was essentially Sparta’s navy. The reason Ithaca’s connection to Corinth is important is because, “Corinth was traditionally allied with Sparta” (Harris). Therefore the audience, Athenians, might forever link Ithaca as an ally of Sparta, and therefore Odysseus, Ithaca’s king, whom the Greeks believe to be a real person, is considered to be an ally of the Spartans. By virtue of being Odysseus’ enemy, as the Spartans are the enemies of the Athenians, Philoctetes is made into an Athenian.
Part 1 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 Ajax translated by E.F. Wlting
Philoctetes translated by E.F. Watling
Ed. William H. Harris, and Judith S Levey
The New Columbian Encyclopedia 4th edition
Columbia University Press, New York, 1975
Armed with the trilogy’s name and author I took my trusty first generation Kindle and purchased The Final Empire by Brandon Sanderson. From the very first page I was hooked by Sanderson’s world. He took nothing for granted, borrowing nothing from any other previous fantasy author, at least none that I have ever heard of. He could have gone down the easy path and used a tried and true magic system. But no, he invented a unique system that held no magic. The abilities gifted from Allomancy, Feruchemy and Hemalurgy are a blast to explore through the course of the series, not to mention on Wikipedia.
The characters are as well written as the magic system is. The unique strengths of each character compliment not only the story, but the other characters as well. Everyone should take the time to read this trilogy and enjoy Sanderson’s tapestry of words.
]]>Whenever someone thinks of Odysseus, an image of a courageous, intelligent, honorable man, a Greek Hero, is conjured in his mind. This image is produced by Homer’s Odyssey, the story of Odysseus’ return from the Trojan War. However, if someone reads either the Ajax and/or the Philoctetes, a different picture of Odysseus is formed. This time there are few, if any, positive thoughts of the man; and these are outweighed by the negative colors used to paint his character. Bravery, honor, and the care for companions are a few of the major differences in Odysseus’ character. While the one true constant is the man’s potent intelligence, what changes is how he uses it in the stories.
In the opening of the Ajax, there is a conversation between Odysseus and Athena, during which we see the first glimpse of cowardice escape from Odysseus. In a reply to Athena, he says, “I’d rather leave him where he is.” (p. 20, Ajax) referring to Ajax, who is currently in his tent. Odysseus has no desire to meet the man because he is in fear for his life. This is a contradiction of the original depiction we have of Odysseus in which the man goes to the land of the dead, faces and defeats a wild Cyclopes, listens to the sirens’ calls — to name a few deeds from the Odyssey. The Greek Heroes are better than men are now, not only physically but also in their characters; this is what makes them heroes. In the Ajax there is no better example of a Homeric Greek Hero than Ajax himself. Ajax is fearless in the face of all dangers, including his own death. During the play, Ajax sees death as the only way out of his problems and takes his life in order to escape with honor (Ajax). However, all men, outside literature, share certain traits — fear of the supernatural, fear of the unknown, and fear of death. Any man flinches at the moment of his death.
Of all of the heroes during the Trojan War, there are few who are portrayed as normal men, a humbling experience for their characters. One of those few, the one chosen by Sophocles, is Odysseus. Of all the heroes, he is the only one who tries to get out of going to Troy but is unsuccessful (523, Powell); so he is a prime choice. Why does Sophocles take such a famous hero and chip away at Odysseus’ character? The comparison of Odysseus to a normal man brings his fear of death closer to the audience, since it is similar to how they would react. In comparison to one of Ajax’s stature, Odysseus’ actions are cowardly and not belonging to a king and hero such as himself. The comparison to normal men is further accented by Odysseus’ attempt to save face, “I’d never fear him sane” (p. 20, Ajax, The). An excuse it is, but when people fail to do what is required of them, or what they should do, excuses come to their lips naturally.
The Ajax is slanted to show Odysseus’ cowardice, but the honor that belongs to him from the previous work, Homer’s Odyssey, is maintained. When Agamemnon and Menelaus desire nothing more than to deny Ajax the burial he deserves, Odysseus fights for Ajax’s burial (Ajax). Even though Odysseus and Ajax are bitter enemies, Odysseus fights to give what is required by the gods, Ajax’s burial (p. 64, Ajax). Odysseus uses his vast intelligence, while fighting for Ajax’s burial rights. In his argument with Agamemnon, Odysseus uses theological arguments to convince Agamemnon, “For the love of all the gods, think twice Before you do a rash and vile thing” (p. 63, Ajax). He goes on to mention to Agamemnon, “god’s laws, …, you would annihilate” (p. 64, Ajax), again in hopes to sway the man. Since Agamemnon is still unwilling to allow the burial, Odysseus attempts a different approach. He attempts to convince Agamemnon by showing how, through his hatred, he sees the honor due Ajax, “Yes; his goodness outweighs his enmity by far” (p. 64, Ajax), “But he was noble” (p. 64, Ajax). Because Agamennon is still unwilling to budge, Odysseus says, “Some day I too shall need that office”, in reference to a burial (p. 65, Ajax). Even though Odysseus is speaking of his own life he is ultimately telling Agamemnon that he needs the rites of burial. This finally sinks in; however, to save face, Agamemnon tells Odysseus to “Do what you will,” having never given his true approval. Thus, Odysseus maintains the level of honor that is due a Greek hero.
Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 Ajax translated by E.F. Wlting
Philoctetes translated by E.F. Watling
Ed. William H. Harris, and Judith S Levey
The New Columbian Encyclopedia 4th edition
Columbia University Press, New York, 1975
Now I will agree that, like the series Angel, of which I was a fan, Moonlight also centered on a private detective who, again as in Angel, happens to be a vampire. Both shows take place in Los Angeles and, yes, the two lead characters wish to be rid of their “condition”. However the canons driving the two shows have stark difference; the two biggest differences involve the sun and steaks, neither of which help you kill a vampire in the Moonlight universe.
Aside from the differences in the canon, the interaction of Josef Kostan and Mick St. John was always fun to watch. The two were so different in their beliefs it was amazing to me that they were as close as they were. It also helped that the two actors seemed to play off of each other very well. Overall I think this was a show that should have been allowed to live and grow, to explore the lives that it created. This single season series is definitely worth embracing.
]]>The first time I saw The Princess Bride, I remember not wanting to watch it; but, a friend of mine told me that it was a good movie, so I sat through it. It still is one of my favorite movies today. It was just a phenomenal, if campy, story. Almost fourteen years later I discovered that this movie had been a book first. So I immediately purchased the book for my kindle and started to devour it. The book is set up as an abridged copy of a story written by S. Morgenstern, with the notes of William Goldman (the novel’s real author) peppered throughout the story.
As I read the book I was amazed at how close “Morgenstern’s” tale was captured since that is the heart of the tale. I am not saying that Goldman’s annotations weren’t entertaining because they were. I think the movie was able to capture the book partly because Goldman wrote the screenplay, but also because the movie set it up as a narrated story. In the end this magnificent story exists in two different types of media and should be consumed in either format.
However this example, I think, is the exception that proves the rule. As I mentioned earlier there is just too much going on to force a book into the mold of a movie. But what is so often unattainable with a movie could be attainable with a series. In a previous article, Books to the Silver Screen, I mentioned that I had recently seen The Hobbit: An Unexpected Journey, a movie I highly recommend, and was later amazed at how true it was to the book. But was it? It turns out that it only adapted a part of the book to the screen. In fact, the book is to be made into a three movie series.
I wish more translations would follow the series path rather than the tried and false path of a single movie. With either a television series, a mini-series, or even a series of movies there is enough time to explore the twists and turns that occur in single book. Even with this time, though, there is no guarantee that it will be a complete or acceptable translation. It takes more than time to achieve what these two examples have. You need both the time to delve into the complete story as well as someone who wants to preserve the story in a new media, instead of creating a new tale while shredding the original.
]]>I believe the most likely source of this belief is that you are listening to the book like a child who is too young to be able to read. Now if you were to listen to Frog and Toad Together or Green Eggs and Ham, yes these are children’s books and so listening to them is childish. However, listening to The Fellowship of the Rings, for example, should not be looked upon as a juvenile exercise. The story, as long as it is unabridged, is exactly the same as the printed version and so is anything but childish.
One of the purposes of reading should be to enjoy what you are reading by experiencing the author’s words, style, and story-telling ability. Its those qualities of the story that are important, not necessarily whether they are exprerienced by reading a book or listening to it. Whether we utilize our eyes or our ears for the book’s consumption we have still experienced the book’s story and the author’s skills.
To those people who insist that you must read a book to properly consume its contents, I simply say you should open your eyes, and your ears, to the world of audiobooks. Throughout the course of a day there are untold hours that yearn to be filled listening to a good book. Personally I’ll listen to my audiobooks mostly during my commute. Now I know some people have to listen to either the news or music while they’re driving, but how either can compete with the telling of a grand adventure I will never know.
If you insist upon listening to the news or music during your commute, or if you don’t have a commute, there are other opportunities to enjoy audio books. Just think about the amount of time you listen to either talk radio or music. A simple trade of a single hour a day for week and a half will complete an average audio book. So you should consider using audible.com to try your first audio book. There are several ways to enjoy a free audio book from audible.com including this one courtesy of Windows Weekly, so give it a try.
]]>Despite these advances the Kindle was still considered a gimmick that would never usurp tried and true books. Now as soon as I picked up that first generation Kindle, I got it. I was hooked from the very first moment and I have since built up quite an extensive library of Kindle e-books. I currently have a third generation Kindle, which still has the free wireless connection. I have not purchased a traditional book for myself since that time. In fact, since I bought my first Kindle I have only purchased hardcover books for my wife, who was, at the time, a book aficionado. She was actively against the Kindle at first, refusing to relinquish the feel of a book under her fingers. But with the third generation device she became hooked. It also helped that she could not only carry her whole library with her but an entire bookstore as well. As I have, I believe she has stopped going to bookstores altogether, in favor of the omnipresent Kindle bookstore.
Two different programs have been launched to help turn the Kindle into a library as well as a book store. The first was a straight forward announcement back in September of 2011, which stated that libraries would be able to lend out e-books in Kindle format. Now I have yet to use this feature, because I haven’t had a need to visit my local library let alone borrow anything from the library. I have a terrible memory for due dates so I tended to finance libraries. But this option is available for Kindle users. The other program is one of Amazon’s own creation, the Kindle Owners Lending Library. This program allows Amazon Prime customers to borrow up to one book per month for free and with no due dates.
Now as time goes on, what will happen to our libraries and our book stores? Will these physical buildings be phased out altogether? Will research move from silent halls of an old library to the digital stacks of the internet? With each passing year, month, even each day, new advances are made and new ways of thinking are installed upon the next generation. Maybe when they come of age they will close those silent stacks from lack of use as they become part of our history.
]]>Now there are times when an author has such a grand tale in his head to tell, that one physical book cannot contain it all. In these circumstances we, the readers, are rewarded with a series. We get to learn and grow with our beloved characters. We get to see the tale, the lore, go beyond a single volume; it is fantastic.
With that said sometimes an author can seem to… enjoy being cruel to his readers. One example that springs to mind is Patrick Rothfuss. In his debut novel, The Name of the Wind, he introduced us to a wonderful world and realistic characters. But it took him four years to edit and publish his second novel, when it was already written. And the final installment of this completed trilogy has yet to be released, and just to clarify the second book was published on March 1st 2011. If he had not made it clear that he would be able to quickly publish the rest of the trilogy perhaps the disappointment might not have been so acute.
Now, to be fair, the first two books have been absolutely wonderful. I have enjoyed them from their first words to their last. It is just that I can hardly wait to read the final piece; there is just so much left up in the air. I just want the last book already. Fortunately for me I was lucky, well at least partially lucky, that I didn’t read the first book when it was published back in 2007. I read it just as The Wise Man’s Fear was released, so I didn’t have to wait the first four years. I commiserate with those who did wait.
Another author that I love, Brandon Sanderson, has started his own epic series, The Stormlight Archives. The first book was published on August 31st 2010 and as of this writing his website says he is forty percent through his first draft. The world he crafted in The Way of Kings is truly epic. As you progress through the multiple story arcs, which he blends together so well, you become attached not just to the characters but also to their world. You can see them grow with the turning of every page. Unfortunately for me, he has been hard at work with other stories, which I have either read or will read once they came out. While the other stories of his that I have read are up to his usual excellence I wish he would focus on The Stormlight Archives instead of the other stories. It’s selfish I know, but it’s what I would like.
In the end the authors will take whatever time they think they need to perfect their tale. If that is taking four years between books, or just one per year, they will not be rushed. The only option the reader has is whether or not to wait for the series to finish before picking up the first book. I think, if given the choice, I will typically choose to follow the series as it is written rather than wait for it to be finished; and, if I catch it in the middle, I’ll be lucky enough to read the previous books as fast as I can.
]]>Comic books, or graphic novels as they are marketed in places, have historically been looked down upon as childish. While they might be allowed for children, for the rest of the population they held little to no value. And someone who wanted to read one was considered foolish and unable to read a regular novel. Over the last couple of decades comic books, rather graphic novels, have made strides, and are now considered by some people to be acceptable.
There will always be those who view comics as nothing more than children’s picture books. But as with anything, you should judge something on its own merits. Yes there are comic books out there that are intended for children or simply to quickly entertain us. A perfect example is Calvin & Hobbes; there is no story here. Then of course there are comics that do tell stories whether seriously or with a healthy dose of campiness.
Any story can be made into a comic book, not just tales of super heroes. Just like any media there is a tradeoff to be sure, but it is not inherently a bad thing. Just because there are pictures to set the stage does not mean the mind is off the hook when reading a comic. Yes the pictures do perform most of the heavy lifting for the imagination, but like any still photo there is more going on than in the frame. Unlike with a photo, it is not our memory that works it is our imagination that takes the frame and words, and, while blending the two together, completes the stage set by the picture.
Jim Butcher, the author of the Dresden Files, is currently one of my favorite authors and he has entered into the realm of comic books. The first comic book series that was released was a four book series entitled Welcome to the Jungle. As soon as that story arc was finished, Storm Front and Fool Moon were translated into comic book, I mean graphic novel, format. Having read both the novel and the comic books, I mean graphic novels little was lost in the translation. Now with that said don’t get me wrong there are differences. The same story was told by differently. And I enjoyed both formats immensely. But I have also enjoyed the first installment of The Ghoul Goblin, the latest graphic novel in the Dresden universe.
Should I enjoy graphic novels as I do? Are they simply childish diversions? My answer is that a good story will transcend its medium and be recognized as such in time.
]]>During the very first episode of the show we are introduced to Richard Castle as he is celebrating the launch of his last Derick Storm novel through the birth of his new character Niki Heat. Throughout his research, the show’s premise, we catch glimpses of his new novel, Heat Wave. When the second season aired we are treated to the launch of his book, a feat that mirrored the real world eight days later. On September 29th 2009, Heat Wave debuted at number 26 on the New York Times best seller list. And, by early November, the book reached number 6 on the list.
In the show Richard Castle is not a one hit wonder, so it should not suprise us that this fictional author did not stop after writing one Niki Heat. There have been three additional novels published, and each one debuted in the top ten of the New York Times Best Seller list. His second installment of the Niki Heat series, Naked Heat, debuted at number 7. Heat Rises debuted at number 1 on the list, while Frozen Heat shared its debut ranking with the second book.
The Nikki Heat novels are not the only works Castle has published. The Derick Storm comic mentioned during one episode was published. The sequel to Deadly Storm, Storm Season, has recieved the same comic book adaptaion and is now available. These two adaptaions are not alone in the Derick Storm universe; there have been three novellas published as well. Is Richard Castle’s success as an author simply due to the success of the television show? Or is the success due to the talent of the ghostwriter being used?
]]>I wish they had been able to produce more than just the two seasons. It would have been fun watching Darien and Bobby fight against the forces of evil that no other agency could see. It would also be nice if the second season would ever be released on DVD. If you ever have the opportunity to watch the show I would recommend you take it.
]]>If I pick up a new book, I might not like it. I might even hate it and then the time I spent reading it would seem wasted. But then again I might find something I really do enjoy, and that should always be a good thing. What do you think?
]]>Again I have to thank audible. The day before I went to see the movie Audible.com put the unabridged copy of The Hobbit on sale for about five dollars. Towards the end of this past December I started listening to the book and was amazed at how close this first movie ran to Tolkien’s words. There were a few liberties taken by Hollywood to add some action to the movie, but otherwise it was fairly true to the book, eventhough the movie covered only part of the book.
Since I get very attached to good stories, I dislike seeing them discarded. Which is what usually happens when stories are transitioned from their original media. The worst offenders are movies based on books. Typically, too much of the story is sacrificed during the production, be it due to omission or to fabrication. There are numerous examples of this, but here are two examples, one with poor results, the other, good results.
“Percy Jackson & the Olympians: The Lightning Thief”, was in theaters and I was told by a friend that it was based upon Rick Riordan’s book. I was due a credit so I decided to listen to the audio book before I watched the movie. After listening to the book I was eager, but wary, to watch the movie. I couldn’t have been more disappointed. Here the producers completely altered the movie to fit what they wanted rather than screen what was a fantastic story. I could barely finish watching the movie I was so disgusted by what they had done, as is often the case when I watch a movie after I read the book.
On the other hand, “The Dresden Files” was airing on SciFy one day and I happened to catch an episode. I was immediately hooked. The visuals were amazing and the story was fun and engrossing. I was disappointed to find out that it ended after a single season but I have watched the show numerous times and I have always enjoyed it. After I watched the series I found Storm Front, one of the books from the Dresden File series, available for the Kindle and I decided to give it a read since I enjoyed the television series. I have since read each of the fourteen books that have been published and I eagerly await those to follow. The reason I can like both the show and the series is because I saw the show first so my transition was from TV to book. There were significant differences between the two but those are reconciled in my mind. But I definitely enjoy the books more than the show.
I know that I will loose all interest in a movie or TV show if I read the original first. I knew it before I listened to the Percy Jackson series, yet I still chose to listen before I watched. I absolutely refused to read any of the Harry Potter books until I watched all of the movies because I had enjoyed the movies and I wanted to be able to enjoy the last two as well. I am more than likely in the minority but I don’t mind, after all it’s all about the story for me.
]]>When I heard that Brandon Sanderson was going to finish Jordan’s grand epic, a new sense of desire for the series flooded into me. Sanderson has quickly become one of my favorite authors, from the world he fashioned in Mistborn to the beginnings of his own grand epic The Stormlight Archives. But the initial interest quickly evaporated when I recalled how disinterested I was in The Eye of the World. I was sure Sanderson could pull me into these stories but I couldn’t skip the rest of The Wheel of Times series just to read the his work. So in the end rather than being excited about the news I grew rather disappointed by it.
Enter audio books, aka audible.com, Sanderson’s The Way of Kings and Jordna’s The Wheel of Time share the same narrators. Both of are very good at bringing the words to life. And I doubted that even they could emerse me into the story I have dismissed for so long.
However, at some point The Eye of the World must have gone on a good sale on audible, since it currently resides in my library. Ever doubtful I have once again decided to test the The Eye of the World, with the help of the two very skilled narrators. So far they have brought this book to life in a way that eluded me as I tried to read words so long ago. I have been listening to the story during my daily commute over the last couple of days and so far it has helped ease my drive.
This is the very reason why I love and recommend audible to anyone. A good narrator or in this particular case a good pair of narrators can bring light to a world made dark by your eyes.
]]>Welcome to stevenmeehan.com. This is to be my escape from the everyday. Inside these pages I will share my thoughts and musings on the different books I read or listened to. Quotes that make me think, laugh or simply entertain my mind will litter my pages, or at least pieces of them will. Even though I have striven to read more and more each day, I do enjoy giving my mind a break and I do enjoy some TV and fewer movies.
So I bid thee welcome and enjoy.
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