Terry Henry Walton Short Story
Wednesday Terry Henry Walton Short Story
Terry’s Personal Journal – Waiting
I’m sitting here cooling my heels while Akio is searching for Michael, joining him to clear the riff-raff from the Earth, something that I was supposed to be doing. Then again, from what I heard of Denver, he’s conducting more of a scorched earth kind of thing. I’m not sure I could ever go that far.
But the Dark Messiah can. I’ll let him take care of that part. Me? I am happy with what we did with what we had.
It’s been so long, but we have such good people. I think they hold me up as much as I hold them.
We heard from Sarah Jennifer. She met Michael Nacht. I’m glad I hadn’t heard that until later. She survived the encounter and even earned his respect. I could not be more proud. She said she’s also getting married.
I’m not sure how I feel about that. It turned out well for Cordelia. Ramses is a good guy, but he didn’t mourn the loss of his parents as I expected. In fact, he never said a word, not at the funeral or afterwards. I need to talk to Cory about that, see if there is anything I can do. He got lost in the shuffle.
Do for others as you wish they’d do unto you, or something like that.
Kaeden and Marcie are still torn at the loss of Mary Ellen. William is not doing well either. It rips my heart to see them crushed as they are. It is the tragedy of life as seen through our eyes, the eyes of the seemingly immortal. Mary Ellen and William refused to go into the pod doc and get nanocytes. They wanted to live a natural life.
I respect their decision, but I don’t have to be happy about it. Kae and Marcie have carried me over the years, giving me reasons to keep trying to do better. Char and I both. We could not be more proud of our kids. I need to tell them that more often.
I get caught up in stuff, focused on the next mission. In the past one-hundred and fifty years I have learned some patience. I won’t tell Char this, but I can’t wait. We’re going to space!
I never dreamed of being an astronaut. I like keeping my feet on the ground, but the complexities of space combat! I have zero knowledge of that stuff because there is nothing written on earth that is based on actual experience. I can’t wait! Huzzah!
Shhh. Don’t tell Char.
I’ve been making the rounds since I’m here and not in space…
Kailin is the apple of his mother’s eye. Kimber and Auburn are happy that he was boosted. They won’t have to watch him grow old. Sylvia came by her nanocytes naturally and is helping Kailin with Walton Industries.
It’s kind of embarrassing that they called it what they did. Sure. I have an ego, but I’d also like to think that I’m more humble than that. At least it isn’t painted on the sides of the dirigibles in letters fifty feet high.
Ted and Felicity seem to like their new life as patrons of sky travel. They move about the country in luxury with servants and local goods, banquets and parties. Had I lived back then (I’m old, but not that old!), it would remind me of the Great Gatsby era. I would have never thought that Ted would like it, but his engines are making things happen.
I wonder when they’ll go to Europe? Things are still a little hot out that way. Michael is there, somewhere. Just follow the trail of destruction. I wonder if I’ll get to meet him?
I’d also love to see those pistols he’s carrying. Jean Dukes specials? Adjustable power with five-thousand rounds? Sumbitch! I gotta get me some of that!
If he lets me. I wonder what one of those would do to a spaceship? Vacuum has a way of leveling the playing field. All you have to do is make a hole and let space take care of the squishy things inside the ship.
I can’t wait to go to space! Shit, sorry. Don’t tell Char.
Where was I? Sylvia. I think she’s going to go her own way. She is a free spirit. Maybe she’ll steal that young man from Portland. Not so young anymore, but the pod doc seems to be back up to speed, although Akio and Yuko aren’t in Japan right now. They are looking for Michael. I expect they’ll find him soon.
I don’t know if Magnus Tolliver would consider getting boosted or not. I’d support it, if that’s what Sylvia wanted.
All my children and grandchildren are precious to me. I would do anything for them.
Except their dishes. Where did we go wrong in that we raised kids who will do anything to save the world, but they’re slobs? How could I raise a slob? I’m not. Char’s not, although she does leave her clothes laying around. I can’t complain about that. The hottest woman on the whole planet is in love with me and is perfectly happy to walk around our home naked.
Baseball. Ice Water. Cricket.
I miss Gene. He acted like a goof sometimes, well most of the time, but damn, he was such a good guy. We tore him away from his life alone, forced a solitary creature into being a member of the pack. He was always an outsider until Fu came along.
Fu! She saved him. Thank God she got boosted. And then those kids of theirs. Anastasia is cute as a button, but her strength is in her community of spirit. Her and her mother are bringing peace to a violent world. Gene and Bogdan are pacifying all of the Crimea. From the name, one would think that crime would run rampant, but not with Gene and his family there.
Criminals be warned. Your days are numbered. Here’s to you my massive Werebear friend! I’d love to clink a glass of beer with you, but you don’t appreciate it like I do. You have a tendency to chug it and then make a face.
Water for you. I know you don’t want to go to space with us. Hold the fort for when we get back. Do the best you can, and we will see you again.
Aaron and Yanmei are more open to going. I hope they decide to come. They help bring peace to Char and me. Just like Cory. How did we get blessed with people who are so well grounded?
And there’s nothing like sparring with a kung-fu Weretiger! They got skillz!
I like that Kurtz guy. He’s solid. Reminds me of Boris. I miss those guys. All of them, but it is the torment of the immortals. Be careful what you ask for, you may get it.
I don’t want to die! And Mother Earth replies, “Okay, but you’ll have to watch everyone else die instead.”
I digress again. You can see what’s on my mind. I think Sue, Timmons, Shonna, and Merrit are ready to go. I wonder about Ted. He would love the challenges of interstellar engineering. What would Felicity do trapped on a spaceship?
That will be an interesting conversation.
There’s no way I’m asking those two vixens, Annika and Meta. They are plying the bars as the most popular dancers in all San Francisco. I think they’re trying to single-handedly take on the entire male population of San Francisco. I heard Werewolves had voracious appetites, but these two are wild.
I’m not sure who else to ask to go. Cory and Ramses aren’t sure, but the other kids are. Kim, Kae, Marcie, and Auburn refuse to be left behind. Auburn is in for a shock, I think.
No beef in space.
That sucks for me, too, and Char. I hope they have beer. Or at least cookies. How to make space travel suck most heinously – no cookies. Or beer. Or steak. What are we going to eat? Rehydrated food packs? Soylent Green?
I guess it doesn’t matter. We’ll eat whatever they offer us, because, SPACE!
I can’t wait.
Don’t tell Char.
Find out more about Craig Martelle, his books, and his life in Alaska at http://www.craigmartelle.com
Might Makes Right – Snippet 03 of xxx
UNEDITED
CHAPTER TWO
QBBS Meredith Reynolds, Guardians’ Office
Peter looked at his two subordinates, and then at Todd and his two. “Guys, we need more recruits. We can’t just shanghai people willy-nilly into the Guardians.”
He leaned back. “It’s time we started accepting others if we are going to implement our own version of Death Dealers to another planet.”
The sucked-in breaths from around the table amused Peter as they realized who he was talking about. “She isn’t that strange, Tommy,” Peter told him.
“Sir,” he nodded, “all due respect, she is fucking frightening.”
“Well then,” Todd told them, “I guess it’s a good thing she’s on our side, isn’t it?”
The four men and two women nodded their agreement.
“Ok,” Peter asked the group, “who’s volunteering to ask Gyada if she is ready to take point again?”
“I think that kind of risk belongs at the top.” Todd smirked, looking at Peter. “Besides, you heal quicker.”
He eyed his friend. “Yeah, I figured as much. Just seeing if I had any abnormally courageous individuals here.”
“Sir, she isn’t going to hurt you, right?” Tina , his second, asked.
Peter shook his head. “No, she’s actually very pleasant. However, I can tell you she is Walking Death and I’m the one who is going to potentially be sending her down a road that is going to cause her pain. And frankly,” he looked at them all, “I hate to ask a friend to go there.”
“But needs must when the devil is driving,” Todd quoted.
QBBS Meredith Reynolds, Open Court, Level Seven
Sarah recognized the three who appeared in front of her office and a whisper escaped her lips. “Empress?”
She was surprised when the Empress turned towards her. “Sarah!” She wore a smile.
Sarah’s internal voice was screaming, Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit! She’s coming in here!
Sarah stood up from her desk and stepped out from behind it, calling to her son over her shoulder. “Johnny?”
Bethany Anne winked at Sarah as the little boy came out of the back of her office. He was playing with two model spaceships, using his hands to fly them around. “PEW PEW, TAKE THAT YOU SKAINE SLAVERS!” He twisted the first ship in his hand, then flew it into the wall and bounced it off, dropping it with a shouted, “KABLOOIE!”
He bent down to pick up the ship and stepped forward as he looked up. His mouth opened and he couldn’t speak.
He stared at the Empress, who was smiling down at him with a glint of humor in her eyes. “Hello, Johnny.”
Beside her, Sarah surreptitiously wiped her eye. This woman was everything she could ever wish for in a monarch, and then some.
About three months before, she and Johnny had been guests on a tour of the ArchAngel II, the preeminent ship in the Etheric Empire’s fleet, conducted by the head of the Empress’ Rangers, Barnabas himself.
Sarah was a single mom, and she hadn’t told Johnny much about the military side of the Etheric Empire. The fact that Johnny’s dad had been killed in an operation back in human space was all she could share before her heart folded in on itself. She didn’t hate the military; it was just too hard for her to talk about it.
Even to her son. Someday, she had promised herself, she would tell the young man all about his father—just not that moment. The someday moment hadn’t yet to occured.
Until Barnabas had stopped in front of her little business and rented a chair from her son.
The visit to the mighty ArchAngel il had captured Johnny’s attention, and she could see Earl’s, her husband’s, blood flow through her son’s veins as he soaked it all up. God, she felt like she had let Earl down.
But it was so damned hard.
Sarah had thought the tour would be a fast thirty minutes, but Barnabas seemed to know exactly what Johnny wanted to see and he found the right people each time to explain things to the young boy. Her heart broke as she realized Barnabas was providing the kind of detailed explanation Earl would have given their son had he been alive.
He had always been the teacher, no matter the subject.
About an hour into the tour Barnabas had turned to her and pursed his lips. “Sarah,” he had asked, “may I show Johnny a video we have on the corporal?”
Sarah’s mouth had hung open for a few seconds. “You have footage?” she had finally asked. She had quickly nodded her agreement before Johnny figured out whatever Barnabas had decided to surprise him with.
She noticed when Barnabas reached up to his collar and spoke softly. A full hour later the three of them entered a small theater with a table at the bottom. They took seats in the bottom row as a voice greeted them.
“This is ArchAngel. I have a video of your father, which ADAM compiled at the direction of the Empress for you to see, young Master Brunner.”
Johnny turned to his mom, his eyes glistening. “Dad?” he whispered, and she nodded.
“Would you like to see it now, or would you like to wait until you are older? The Empress says it is your choice,” the AI asked him.
“Please?” he asked. “Please, ArchAngel, Empress?”
It wasn’t a short video. It ran for over twenty minutes, showing Earl first as a young man going to college to be a teacher, before he received that fateful phone call.
One that informed him his friend Samantha had been killed in a terrorist attack in France. He had told Samantha’s mother that he understood and appreciated her call.
He slowly hung up the phone and grabbed his keys. He didn’t have class for another four hours, but his classes had become irrelevant to him now anyway.
He never went back to that college. Rather, he left his apartment and went to the Navy/Marines recruiting station. Standing in front of the two doors, Navy to the left, Marines to the right, he looked at their posters. Pressing his lips together, he realized he wanted…no, he needed to be on the sharp end of the stick.
He had turned right into the Marines’ office and never looked back.
Two years later, in a nowhere little dirt town protecting a group of civilians who probably didn’t appreciate his support, Earl’s vehicle ran over an IED and in the blast that tore up their vehicle, he lost a leg. When he woke up on a stretcher, he could see his sergeant’s face and knew something was wrong.
“All I want to know,” he ground out through the pain that the meds were nowhere near taking care of, “is can I go back?” A moment later he pressed his eyelids together as the sergeant shook his head.
A knock on his apartment door a year later changed his life. It was an invitation to visit TQB’s medical ship, which was based in France at that time. He hadn’t been sure it wasn’t a joke, but thank God he had taken them up on the offer.
When they told him he could get back into the game again against the foes of Earth, he couldn’t agree fast enough.
Sarah had been his physical therapist, and had gone with him to France. When he had healed, he asked if she would marry him.
She had questioned him before answering, and he had admitted that he wouldn’t have asked her when he wasn’t a whole man. She had told him he was beyond stupid for thinking something like that would matter, then given him an emphatic yes.
His story, including the tale of his lost leg, unfolded on the screen to their son’s rapt attention.
An eternity and a few seconds later the film ended and the lights brightened. During the film Johnny had slid out of his seat and sat on his mom’s lap as she wiped tears away, reliving the love she still felt for Earl.
Johnny had given her hugs during the video to comfort her, and she had returned them.
In the aftermath of the footage the two of them were blankly watching the white screen. The next second they both were shocked when the Empress and John Grimes appeared in front of them.
Johnny couldn’t figure out which of the two he had wanted to look at first as John walked towards him, “You can handle this, Johnny. Your dad’s story is incredible. You were damned lucky to have had him, both of you.” He nodded to Sarah, then stepped out of the room to take up his position outside.
That left only the Empress, who had once again smiled at him.
Just like she was smiling at him right now as he clutched the two forgotten spaceships in his hands.
“Are you playing Rangers?” Bethany Anne asked him.
Johnny nodded.
“Well, Barnabas is going to be happy to hear that,” she told him, then winked. “But I’ve brought two other people who want to make sure they get a word with you before you make any choices for your future, young man.” She stepped aside and waved to the two men behind her. “Let me introduce you to General Lance Reynolds, Military Commander of the Etheric Empire, and Admiral Thomas, Space Navy Commander of the Etheric Empire.”
Both men smiled and they playfully jostled each other to be the first to shake his hand.
Johnny stepped forward, moved the ship to his left hand and reached up. “I’m honored to meet you both, sirs. My name is Johnny.”
Sarah had groped to try and find some tissues as she watched. When someone handed her a handkerchief, she used it to wipe her tears. Realizing it was soft, she saw that it was made of silk. She turned to see a young-looking woman in a purple dress, wisdom in her eyes, smiling at her. “Keep it. I bought it for Lance, but I think maybe it would be an excellent marketing tool to offset Barnabas’ influence.”
And she was right.
FROM MICHAEL>>> Hello! This snippet was encouraged by Robert Tonkiss on the Facebook Page.
So, we have the 10th (and final) Terry Henry Walton Chronicles book written with / by Craig Martelle released yesterday, but actually on the Amazon servers early this morning for sale (click here if you want to grab it at $0.99 pricing).
It rather sucked, actually.
BUT, all of you fans who rallied to the cause helped us get through the mess with our own sanity in check, as well. So, thank you for helping a couple of us make it through the day. Martha Carr (Oriceran Universe) was re-releasing something on her own account and said she seemed to be stuck, as well.
So, it wasn’t just us.
Now, for those who were freaking out with Ell Leigh Clarke’s comment on her FB Page, she is totally just being mean 😉
So, go ahead and go back and release the kraken on her 😉
Days away from releasing Bethany Anne!
Revolution Audiobook Release!
Revolution: The Rise of Magic, Book 4 Audiobook
“No matter what,” she said, “tomorrow ends with blood.”
Adrien’s master plan has been revealed and the battle lines are drawn. With the ashes of the Boulevard still hanging in the air, Hannah and team must race to prepare their ragtag army before the full might of Arcadia descends upon them.
While Karl works to whip his troops into shape, Parker invades the belly of the beast, and Hannah and Ezekiel head on diverging paths to seek help.
They’ve made a stand, but can they win the war?
Revolution brings the first arc of The Rise of Magic series to an explosive end, finally setting right decades of old wrongs and answering the question of good versus evil.
It’s an action-packed story, filled with heart, humor, and the never-ending pursuit of justice.
Rebellion Audiobook Release!
Rebellion: The Rise of Magic, Book 3
We’re thrilled to announce that the audiobook of Rebellion: The Rise of Magic, Book 3 is now available.
When you sow tyranny, you better be prepared to reap the rebellion.
Hannah and Ezekiel dig deeper into the corruption of the Noble Quarter, and the sick truth of Adrien’s master plan becomes clear. They need to call upon the diverse group of those loyal to the cause in order to stop the Chancellor’s reign of terror – before any more innocents die by his hand. Meanwhile, Karl and Parker enlist a powerful ally to help them battle against the Prophet’s lies, and Gregory prepares for something far more dangerous than battle – a formal ball at his parent’s house.
Sometimes, rebels have all the fun.
Might Makes Right – Snippet 02 of xxx
UNEDITED
QBBS Meredith Reynolds, Guardians’ Workout Area
Ashur dodged to his left, jaws clamping on the wolf’s hind leg. The two of them arrested their momentum as Ashur kept his jaws locked, and it felt like his teeth were about to be ripped out of his jaws.
The two canine bodies slammed to the floor. Over at the side, Peter winced at the sound.
“That had to hurt,” Todd commented, followed by Peter’s nod of agreement.
“Hold!” Peter called. “Change, Tim,” he ordered the wolf. A moment later, a very large man replaced the wolf on the ground. The white German Shepherd barked.
Tim turned towards Ashur. “No,” he told him. “I’m fine, but that was a hell of a grab.” He flexed his rapidly healing leg, stretching it out and back a couple of times. “See? Good as new, buddy!”
Peter tossed a pair of sweat pants to Tim, who slid them on after he stood up. “For a dog, you’re wicked fast.”
Tim raised an eyebrow as Ashur barked to him, “Yeah? No fucking wonder. Glad it’s your ass that has to work out with the Empress, not mine!”
Ashur’s chuff caused all of them to laugh in sympathy with the canine. With everyone having the latest updates and upgrades in their implants, they could understand both the parents and the pups easily, plus any other alien languages the Etheric Empire ran into.
“Ok, Ashur.” Peter smiled evilly, looking at the German Shepherd. Ashur cocked his head sideways.
OH, DAMN! he thought.
Tim looked at Peter as he turned and yelled, “Jian!”
Over on the far side of the workout gym, a Chinese man turned to look in their direction. “Cat time!” Peter called and Jian nodded, starting to jog over to their position.
Ashur whined as both Peter and Tim chuckled.
Someone please get me the body armor! Ashur chuffed.
Peter smiled as he headed toward the wall. Bethany Anne had told him Ashur was trying to get away with working out without his armor, but he needed to learn that while it was constricting, it was necessary. It had taken Ashur exactly one match with Jian to learn he didn’t enjoy healing from cat claws ripping through his side.
QBBS Meredith Reynolds, Mark Billingsley Park, Four Months since First Battle of Karillia
Samuel walked over to the three adults standing by the tree. Richard turned to him, “Anything?”
“Like there would be anything going on in the middle of the Meredith Reynolds!” Sia told the two of them.
The brief flash of pain across Richard’s face caused Sia to remember. To Richard, Mark’s death hadn’t been that long ago. The vampires remembered, and they still felt the pain.
Especially Richard. Why, Sia had yet to understand. She had tried to talk with him about it, but he had been reticent. She then cornered Samuel instead and he admitted that Richard had seen a piece of himself in Mark and had liked him much more than any other normal human in a century or more.
Plus, at his core Richard was a romantic and he had wanted to see the two of them hook up. Or Mark and Giannini; Richard wasn’t particular.
“So,” she had asked Samuel, “he’s like a blood-drinking Cupid?”
Samuel’s eyes had lit up at that, and Sia put her hands on his chest. “Don’t you dare tell Richard I said that!” She’d eyed his mischievous grin. “I swear I’ll think of something to cause you…” Here, Sia had to stop talking a moment and think the threat through. Samuel had been trading practical jokes with people for centuries.
What the hell could you do to embarrass someone who wouldn’t care if he walked naked through a book-reading event held by a bunch of nuns?
She’d narrowed her eyes. “I’ll tell Gabrielle a complete lie that will cause her to come looking for you.”
That had caused Samuel’s smile to disappear. “Sia,” he sniffed, looking down at the young woman, “I applaud your Machiavellian ways. You have graduated to sophomore status.”
At that he had turned and walked away, and Sia’d realized she was proud of herself. That feeling lasted for about a second, until she realized he had never promised her he wouldn’t say anything to Richard.
Dammit!
Sia came back to the present and offered a smile to the two men. “We appreciate you signing up to help us with this project.
“You aren’t just reporting here, are you?” Richard looked between the women.
Giannini answered, “No, I think this is going to open everything up for the Etheric Empire. For the last few years everything has been about internal issues, specifically the Yollin assholes or the other polities which have attacked us. This time we are sending ships to another planet.”
Samuel shrugged. “We’ve sent out our ships before,” he told her. “What’s different this time?”
“Pirates,” Sia answered as she turned and started packing away the drones. “All those other times pirates that caused the Empire’s military to leave our little area. Now those who feared we would start expanding are going to flail their arms.”
Sia paused, then clarified, “Or tentacles or claws or whatever sort of appendages they have.”
Richard pursed his lips. “You two have experience with this?” He flicked his eyes to Samuel, who nodded
“Humanity has,” Giannini told them. “Sia and I have spent a good while on Yoll and Straiphus tracking down stories, and we have come to realize that the universal glue that holds us together isn’t genetics.” She noticed the look that said, “Go on already” from her two friends. “It’s self-interest.”
“Which,” Sia picked up her drone case and stood, “if it is a hive-mind-type alien, just means the self-interest is on a larger scale.”
Samuel took a second to sweep his eyes through his sector. “Hope we don’t see any large creatures with a hive-mind attitude.”
The two ladies stared at him. “You know,” Sia told him, “I had forgotten how you could take a somewhat normal thought and make it far worse.”
Samuel shrugged. “When you live hundreds of years, you experience a lot of bad things.”
“Only to have life demonstrate it really was fucking with you,” Richard finished. “Which is why we continue to watch for threats, even on the Meredith Reynolds.”
Sia and Giannini stepped toward the men, who were surprised when the girls gave them each a hug. “I wouldn’t feel any safer with John Grimes around, Richard,” Sia told him, her words muffled by his jacket.
She could feel his body relax slightly, and then his arm pulled her tight as he hugged her back.
QBBS Meredith Reynolds, Main Military Meeting Room
Bethany Anne nodded to her advisors and stood. She turned to the audience, which was made up of second- and third-line management and operations personnel. “You have tasks, challenges and opportunities ahead. We came out here to find and stop the Kurtherians, if at all possible.” She stepped away from her chair and walked toward the front of the long table, looking up at the rows of faces gazing back at her.
“Unfortunately the Leath are stronger than us, and frankly are on a better war footing. Right now, them being anal-retentive about timing is giving us a chance to restrict the fight to the Karillian System. The Yaree are pulling their people home, those they can take away from trade. That means we have the monumental task of training a race who needs to grow a little backbone. We are that backbone, for the moment.”
Bethany Anne looked around. “It’s time to kick our efforts into overdrive, people. I encourage all of you to go back to your jobs, kick ass, and work with your staffs. We need you to come up with new ideas and new solutions. Find ways we can close the distance between our expected delivery times, and yesterday. Am I understood?”
“YES, MA’AM!” the crowd yelled back.
She smiled at them all. “Dismissed!”
She stood at the front and spoke to the few who came up to talk to her. She listened to a few ideas and smiled, sending them to the appropriate person in the organization who would be addressing that problem.
Lance walked up to her. “Bethany Anne?”
She turned to him. “Yes, Dad?”
A couple of the people around her nodded and stepped back. They could tell when it was official business because the General would refer to her by her title, and she would reply in kind. They walked away with smiles on their face; just the little moment of the Empress calling the General her dad made her more human.
Less of a figurehead.
“Patricia was wondering if you would have time to stop by this week, maybe touch base on some of her thoughts about the war packages?”
“Of course,” she told him. “Do we have the archives set up to print the books and comics?” She thought for a moment. “And the cards for the games?”
“Yes, yes, and yes,” he told her. “Plus, we have limited the print run with scarcity in mind so that they will have something to gamble with.”
“Can you go right now?” she asked him.
He checked the time. “I’ve got a conversation with Kevin about the new mobile Reynolds he’s building in ten minutes.”
Bethany Anne checked her schedule.
ADAM, move my meeting with Jean until tonight before dinner. Tell her I’m tagging along with my dad to see about the new Reynolds.
>>Done. She says that works out better for her anyway.<<
There was a pause…
>>Sorry, I wasn’t supposed to admit that last part.<<
Humans have been copping out on stuff more than a thousand years. We are all busy.
“Why don’t we swing by, see if Patricia is around, then I’ll go with you to see Kevin?” she asked him.
He nodded. “Works for me.”
“Hey!” The two turned to see Admiral Thomas walking toward them. “Give an old man a lift?”
Bethany Anne reached out to them both as he neared them. “You don’t look a day past thirty, Bartholomew.” She smiled when just the tiniest part of his lip curled in annoyance.
Hey, it wasn’t her fault his parents named him something he didn’t care for. She wasn’t about to call him Bart, for fuck’s sake.
ADAM, where is Patricia?
>> Shopping, fourth floor, men’s section.<<
Seconds later the three of them popped out into the large shopping area, seventh floor, in front of a shop.
They all heard the indrawn breath.
“Empress?” A woman’s voice inquired softly.
FROM MICHAEL >>> I was asked by a fan to put up another snippet…and I had expected to do it 2 days ago. Sigh, ask me for anything but time 😉
I’m keeping up with my counts for words (mostly) and have over 54,000 words into the book, and the target date for release is Wednesday, August 23rd.
Hope to say ‘Words Complete’ Soon!
Michael
P.S. – Need some Kurtherian? Check out our latest releases on Amazon!
Nomad Avenged Audiobook Release!
Nomad Avenged
We’re very excited to announce that, Book 7 in the Terry Henry Walton Chronicles, Nomad Avenged is now available in audio format!
Rogue Mage – Snippet 3
Rogue Mage, Path of Heroes Book One
By Brandon Barr and Michael Anderle
Snippet 3
Unedited
“Watch this,” called Payetta, dragging the body of a raider she’d killed the day before beside his dead companion.
Justen was rummaging through one of the men’s packs. He’d been scouring them ever since they’d arrived back at the kill site that morning. Finally, Justen looked up from the pack. “All right, let’s see this big show you’ve been promising.”
She closed her eyes and focused her energy on the tree roots. Lying on the ground above was the dead raider. The dirt and pine needles surrounding the corpse began to shake, then split. Striking up out of the ground rose a myriad of snaking tendrils. She directed each on a precise course, sliding them around the man, wrapping him in a wooden embrace. She was like a spider spinning a victim in her silken web.
As she wrapped him, she focused another portion of her energy to the other nearby body, locating it in her mind while not releasing her hold of the pine tree. Slowly she drew out another branch of roots and slid them over the second man she’d felled yesterday. The one She Grunts had sprayed. The one she’d used her wooden sword on and her husband was none the wiser.
Once both dead men were entangled, she pulled them down into the earth. Using more roots below ground, she upheaved and churned the soil, creating room for the two bodies. She opened her eyes a crack. Visually, it was morbidly stunning. The men appeared to be sinking into the earth.
“Nicely done,” came Justen’s voice.
Payetta finished the burial, then released her grip on the trees, pleased that she’d finally gotten a fingerhold on the art of controlling two living things at the same time.
Trees were a good first start, next she hoped to succeed at animals, a much more difficult task that required greater concentration. She’d come close several times, but the exertion had left her exhausted. Time would change this, as it always did. The more she flexed her mental power, the stronger her stamina and magic became.
“Thank you,” replied Payetta with a slight bow. “If you’d get up at dawn with me, you might glimpse all my secrets.”
“You’d find ways to hide them anyway,” Justen mused. “Besides, Cluckruck and I like to sleep in together.”
Payetta snorted. “You and that lazy chicken.”
Cluckruck was their faithful egg-laying chicken, and she was as fat as a river toad. Whenever they slept at Honey Hideout—their preferred place to spend the night—Cluckruck would roost in Justen’s tangled hair and wouldn’t get up to dig for worms or lay eggs until he stirred awake.
“I’m just proud I was able to heal you,” replied Justen. “I don’t know how you do it, but I’m exhausted after I do magic—no matter how piddly it is compared to your stuff.”
“It takes time,” replied Payetta, fingering the spot on her forehead that Justen had repaired. It had taken him an hour to do what would have taken her minutes. “Remember, the more passionate you are about the magical act, the more power you’ll have. Kinda like sex.”
Justen folded his arms and frowned, but she saw right through it. He was hiding a smirk behind those deliciously shaped lips. “Is that another comment about my stamina last night?”
“Not at all dear,” purred Payetta. “You were very powerful…while you lasted.”
Justen dipped his head, a smile breaking through his serious facade. “Outlasting you is like trying to drink up a river.”
“That’s ridiculous. I have my limits.” She winked. “We just haven’t discovered them yet.”
>>>From Brandon – Rogue Mage arrives tomorrow, August 11th
Snippet One and Snippet Two were action scenes, so perhaps a short, casual, body-burying scene with a little husband and wife humor might be in order. Enjoy!
Check out Brandon Barr and his other books at http://www.brandonbarr.com
Terry Henry Walton Short Story
Wednesday Terry Henry Walton Short Story
It’s All In The Mission
IT’S ALL IN THE MISSION – from Terry Henry Walton’s private journal.
“Why in the hell are you here, Lieutenant?” I asked, irked by his presence. My team had trained together for over six months. We worked as one. We knew what each other thought, their strengths, their weaknesses. I was in charge, but only by virtue of rank. We all had our specialty. Mine just happened to be the equipment. I could tear it down and put it back together again. I made this junk work and I knew how to organize the data we collected and send it back to someone who cared. It was more than a job for us. And I was good at killing people.
I used the equipment for something to do in between the direct action missions. I liked the scent of a man’s fear.
The lieutenant looked hurt.
“Well, Sergeant, I came along to observe and supervise if necessary. I can authorize the movement of this unit to alternate locations without the hassle of requesting it over the radio.” The lieutenant seemed satisfied with his answer. He raised his head slightly so he could look down at me, a weak attempt to assert his authority.
One corporal manned the radio direction finding (RDF) equipment and a lance corporal rolled through frequencies slowly on a radio designed to pick up anything in the VHF spectrum. Both had noticed the friction between myself and the “observer” and watched us closely. A second corporal lay curled up in a ball towards the edge of a rock wall some feet away, sleeping peacefully.
I leaned nearer the lieutenant and in a soft voice so the others couldn’t hear, said, “You stay out of our way. Do you understand? You shouldn’t be here and already you’ve changed our orders three times. I’ve had it with you. The next time you open your mouth, we’re going to pack our trash and we’re humping out of here!”
The lieutenant prepared a retort or a threat or something else that didn’t matter. I guess my angry glare kept his words from dribbling out like a baby spitting up its breakfast. I’d probably pay later, but for now, the mission would come back on line and maybe we could get some intelligence that was worthwhile, then move back behind our lines. A hot meal and a rack in the air conditioned comfort of our ship waited for us. But for now, we were stuck in a very small two story building that was heaped with the rubble of a previous explosion.
We had selected this building because it was one of the few whole buildings standing in this part of Beirut. It had access to the roof where our antennas now stood. One antenna was low profile. Another looked like a typical T.V. antenna, but the third was an obvious Marine green. I had tried to set it up level with the T.V-looking antenna, but I couldn’t get in touch with the ship. After raising it another six feet, I could hear higher headquarters, and more importantly, they could hear me.
My team was set up on the bottom floor. Only one room was habitable and that just happened to be the kitchen. The only thing that suggested it had once been a kitchen were the sink and the counter. There was no water so we simply set up all our equipment on the counter and in the sink. We had been operating all day now after having been inserted late last night. So far we hadn’t found any exploitable targets and all was mundane and quiet. That probably accounted for some of the friction between the lieutenant and me.
“Hey, TH, it’s almost three. You wanna wake up sleeping beauty?” The lance corporal took off his headphones and rubbed at the red creases around his ears. He yawned and stretched.
TH. That was me. They sometimes called me Goldy, too. I had dyed my hair golden blond right before we got on ship. I don’t know why I did it, maybe because I thought blonds had more fun. It didn’t matter. I guess it was just something to do. Well, anyway, it wouldn’t last forever, unlike a tattoo.
“Come on Stinky, time to rise and shine.”
A pair of bright red eyes peered out at me from under the protective covering of an arm. “Oh gawdy, I feel like I just fell asleep,” answered a dry voice. He contorted his body into a sitting position and rubbed feeling back into his leg, wincing from the pain of the returning circulation.
I looked at him and laughed silently. Why had I nicknamed him Stinky? Every unit had a Stinky and he just happened to fit the billet. He was renowned aboard ship for his bodily gases. There was nothing he enjoyed more than sharing his gas with others, usually at the most inopportune time. Stinky reached for a Meal, Ready to Eat (MRE) and began to open it.
“Come on, Stinky, you can eat that on watch. Give Plants a break; he’s been spinnin’ and grinnin’ all day.” Plants had a degree in Botany and went on to learn Arabic. He enlisted because he didn’t want the responsibilities of being an officer, nor did he need the pay. He was happy at the bottom of the ladder. “Plants can go suck himself. I gotta wake up.”
“Stinky, Stinky. Why do you always have to talk like that?”
“Leave me alone Goldy. At least my hair’s the color God meant it to be.”
They never forget, do they? I thought to myself. I smiled and turned away. The corporal on the RDF was laughing as he kicked back on a box turned into a chair. His nickname was simply Jonesy. He never got excited. He was a man who could be counted on, no matter what.
Stinky and Plants changed places. Plants sat for a second, then stood up and began to stretch. Stinky looked at him oddly. “Hey, if you’re gonna waste it, I’ll take the rack and go back to sleep.”
“Nope! It’s my turn and I’ll spend it however I like.” He ended by sticking his tongue out and making international rude gestures in Stinky’s direction. Needless to say, Stinky broke into a tirade of cursing. I slapped him on the back and frowned my disapproval, which only served to bring his cursing in my direction. At least he was awake…
It was two in the morning before I finished my report. I had to tally all we had done during the day and send it back to the ship. There wasn’t much, but I had to make it sound like we were a four-man army. Only Plants and I were up. I sent the others off to lullaby-land by midnight. No sense in wearing them down when there wasn’t anything going on.
I sat up for another hour before I couldn’t keep my eyes open anymore. I had been up for twenty-four hours and that was my limit. I had to get some sleep if I wanted to function when the new day came. I woke Jonesy, then quickly curled myself into the warm spot he vacated.
“TH, Terry wake up! Hey man, the Lieutenant’s gone and Plants says he’s got something. Come on, get up!” I was dragged to my feet and shook roughly. I thought I’d been asleep for a grand total of thirty seconds.
“What? Who’s where?” It was now 0530 and my senses eluded me. I was being shaken and I was standing, but that’s all I understood. All of a sudden, the shaking stopped. Far off in my mind I thought I heard swearing, then a canteen cup of water rained into my face.
That was all I needed, because I balled a fist and prepared to punch at the swearing face in front of me.
“Hey! It’s just me. Chill out!” Stinky looked concerned, which was a different expression for him.
“O.K. I’m up. Sorry, Stinky. What’s up?” Stinky told me that Plants had been listening in on a conversation for over an hour and that they repeatedly mentioned “hostages.” Stinky had gotten up only a few minutes ago and noticed that the Lieutenant was gone. He looked around quickly outside the building, but the Lieutenant was nowhere near.
“Well, Dick Head can fend for himself. Plants, give me a run down and Jonesy, what kind of line of bearing (LOB) do you have?”
“Just something about the scumbags moving hostages; three, I think, but that’s all I’m getting. Those morons can’t coordinate what they’re doing so they’re just swearing at each other.”
“Yeah, TH, they stay up on the handset for a long time. Real easy to get a good LOB on ’em. They’re shooting a 115 true.” I immediately contacted the ship with a short, but clear report. They lost their collective minds and started asking endless, senseless, and unanswerable questions. I cut them off telling them that I would contact them when I had further information. Over and out. I guess they understood that. About ten minutes later, the terrorists came back on the radio, but this time they gave a firm location where they were headed.
I guess the ship had also been listening in because the radio immediately crackled to life. “Yankee Six Sierra, this is Bravo Niner X-ray, over.”
“This is Six Sierra, over,” I answered.
“This is Niner X-ray. We LOB your target at 168, over.”
“I copy 168. Wait one, over.” I drew a straight line from the ship at 168 degrees. Our line of 115 degrees was already drawn from our building. They crossed neatly in the middle of a block held by the Shiite. RDF was not an exact indicator of locations, but it did give a general idea. I brought the map close to Plants and showed him the possible location. He studied it through his John Lennon glasses, then traced a line along a street from my crossed lines to a point only four blocks from where we now sat. “That’s where they’re going, TH! I know it. Right there!” He made a gouge in the map with his fingernail. Sweat beaded on his forehead and his hand shook slightly. It was hot outside, even this early, but not that hot.
I keyed the handset, “Niner X-ray, this is Six Sierra, over.”
“This is Niner X-ray. Go ahead, over,” The gunnery sergeant’s voice came back. The ship knew how important this information was and undoubtedly, everyone who was anyone was jammed into the intelligence spaces, listening in.
“This is Six Sierra. Transfer of hostages currently underway to grid location 4287 3561. How copy, over?”
“This is Niner X-ray. Transmission garbled. Say again your last, over.” Before I could answer, mortar rounds crashed into the building across the street, sending stone chips flying in through the window. The entire block was being shelled.
“Niner X-ray, this is Six Sierra, over.” My answer was static. “Stinky, get upstairs and check the antenna.”
He hesitated for only a second, then ran for the stairs. At that same instant, a cammie clad figure burst through the doorway and slid face first across the floor. The lieutenant had returned.
He rolled over, shock and terror gripped his features. Jonesy shook his head and Plants nervously clenched his fist. I grabbed the lieutenant’s collar and pulled him up. I wanted to hit him, but he was senseless already. Not only had he compromised himself, he had compromised our position, and now our whole mission was in jeopardy. I let go of him.
“Hey Goldy, the Two Niner Two is down. The mast is broken in half and the elements are all bent to hell. The other two antennas are O.K., I think. I didn’t get too close.”
I thought for a minute. The shelling was letting up. Well, at least it was going away from us.
It seemed like we were in the eye of a hurricane, and that’s how I felt; we were surrounded by a storm. “Pack it up. We’re leaving.” My team seemed only too eager to comply.
Despite our haste, it still took over half an hour to load the radios and the two remaining antennas into our packs.
We were set. The lieutenant had regained most of his awareness and was standing, loaded down, just like the rest of us. I had the PRC-77 set up and on, the tape antenna protruding from my pack and the handset clipped to my H-harness. “O.K. stud muffins, here’s the deal. Jonesy, you got the lead, then Stinky. I’ll baby-sit the LT and Plants, you bring up the rear.”
I laid the map on the counter and showed our route to Jonesy and to Stinky.
“We go fast, understand?” All heads nodded in agreement. “We have to get those eight numbers back to the ship, then it’s their ball game.” 4287 3561. Those numbers were burned in my mind. I had to get them to someone who could do something with them. The ship had both Snakes (AH-1W Cobra attack helicopters) and Frogs (CH-46 Sea Knight medium lift helicopters). They could get in, grab the hostages, save the day, and get out in a matter of minutes. That was their job.
We had done ours. All that remained was to give them the grid coordinates.
“Rock and Roll, Jonesy.” He turned and stepped out the door. Stinky watched him go, waited about ten seconds, then followed. I did the same, the lieutenant beside me. We walked quickly down the side of the street, staying close to the buildings. A couple of houses ahead, Stinky walked at the ready, a thirty round magazine locked into his M-16. Jonesy was a ways up ahead, looking everywhere, yet moving forward at a fast pace. I turned around. Plants was a couple buildings behind the lieutenant and me. Plants smiled at me, then checked to his rear and gave me the thumbs up.
We had only covered two blocks when automatic weapons opened up in front of us. Jonesy dove into a bomb crater in the street. Stinky broke into a run and dove into the same crater. I stepped through a doorway near me, the lieutenant right behind me. I heard the steady tread of a Marine running and an instant later, Plants barreled headlong through the doorway.
I stuck my head out and gave Stinky the “wait” sign. He waved back “O.K.” I keyed the handset, knowing my chances of getting through were about zero. Transmitting from inside a building was rarely successful. “Bravo Niner X-ray, this is Yankee Six Sierra, over.” I called twice more, then clipped the handset back to my harness. I looked out the doorway once more and waved to Stinky and Jonesy to come over to the building. Jonesy aimed his M16 over the edge of the crater in the direction of the weapons fire. I added a few rounds of my own to cover the repositioning of my point man.
Stinky jumped up and ran straight to the doorway. When he was in, Jonesy popped up and sprinted for us. As he neared the doorway, a machinegun sprayed the face of our building. He dove through the opening and rolled behind the wall.
“Stinky, look for a back door!” I peeked out a nearby window. A number of ragged militia ran from behind a building across the street. Plants and I fired at the running targets, causing them to scatter. Two jumped into the crater Jonesy had just vacated and the other five ducked into the open building directly across from us.
“No-go, TH. This is the only way in or out.”
“Don’t they make back doors in these places? I’m beginning to severely dislike these people.”
“O.K. What can they do? They can call in mortar fire on us. They can blockade us. They can call up some reinforcements. What can we do?” I thought out loud. There didn’t seem to be much that was in our favor.
The longer we waited, the worse it would get.
As they say, no time like the present. “Dump your packs. They’re staying.” We organized our packs into a neat little pile. I took out our one Thermite grenade, pulled the pin, then set it on the packs. We watched as the radios and antennas melted under the extreme heat of the burning thermite.
“TH, something’s going on.” Plants had been keeping an eye on the building across the street and it seemed that indecision was also gripping our adversary.
“Stinky, you have the best arm. Put one grenade in the crater. Jonesy and I will send a couple more across the street and by the time the smoke clears, we better be around the corner and setting a new team sprint record.” The three of us pulled the pins together.
Stinky launched his first, then jumped to the side as Jonesy and I sent our grenades skittering across the street. The explosions came quickly and we dashed out the doorway. As Stinky and the lieutenant were turning the corner towards freedom, the sound of a rifle crack echoed down the empty street behind. Then more shots followed. We had been seen.
We stopped behind the corner. I grabbed the lieutenant’s harness. “You get these men back to the ship. Do you understand?”
“What are you going to do, Sergeant?” the lieutenant of old demanded.
“I’m gonna distract them. I’ll catch up with you, but for now, get those coordinates back to the ship.” I leaned around the corner and fired a couple rounds. There was a brief shuffle behind me. I fired another round. Not wanting to look back, I listened as my team moved out.
Then, I was alone. I had the scumbags right where I wanted them. There was no one to slow me down…
Learn more about Craig Martelle and his other books at http://www.craigmartelle.com
Rogue Magic – Snippet 2
Rogue Magic, Paths of Heros Book One
By Brandon Barr and Michael Anderle
Snippet 2
Unedited
Daeken Zee Walton watched the black smoke drift over the treetops in the distance. It was the first thing of interest he’d seen in a long while, the last being a row of six bodies drying out in the sun impaled on sticks.
He’d seen a lot of things since leaving his home. None of it was good.
Whether these six dead men were murdered by a mage’s soulless raiders, killed by brutals, or awaiting consumption by a pack of ravers, he couldn’t tell.
A small rise in the distance blocked the source of the fumes. Daeken hurried along, cloak whipping in a foul northern wind, his great sword, Wickedbane, strapped to his back yearning to be drawn.
He swore the sword could speak to him sometimes.
There were two things that had kept Daeken grounded his entire life. The first were the stories, told to him by his grandmother, of his legendary great-great-grandfather Terry Henry Walton, the man who brought humanity back to civilization, bringing justice from the Unknown World. The second thing that had grounded him was his wife, Farrah and their seven-year-old son, Aldon.
If not for these people in his life, there was no telling what kind of man he might have become. Even as a child he had a mind that wandered naturally toward darker ends. Some remnant of the Age of Madness flowing through his veins. If left to his own tendencies, he might have become a soulless monster as dark-hearted as the mages.
The heroism and heart of his legendary ancestor had changed all of that. Terry Henry Walton was to him the light of revelation in his life, breathing purpose and meaning into a ragged mind, turning his eyes toward the many suffering people crying out for justice and hope.
Daeken stumbled up a ravine, his legs getting ahead of his nose which smelled the promise of blood and cleaving ahead for Wickedbane. The acrid smoke drifting through the trees made his mouth salivate like a predator chasing down a prey.
The smell of retribution and justice.
Cresting the top of the small hill, he came to a clearing in the sparse woods and looked out at a vast swath of green land.
Beautiful green land, just like the land his home had stood on in the grasslands beneath the crumbling ruins of the City of Wind.
He stared in momentary shock out at the farmland sprawled before him and breathed in the sulfuric fumes of homes burning along with crops.
Suddenly Daeken fell to his knees, consumed by the sight. His tears slid down past lips curled in rage. It was the same sight he’d glimpsed months ago—like a memory reborn—the day he’d returned to his own home from a three-day hunt only to find his neighbors’ homes burning alongside his own.
This was what he’d been seeking out these many months. Some last refuge of humanity. To find hope in that place. And to warn them of the danger.
Daeken stood, eyes zeroed in on the leather-clad men moving from home to home. The blood of his great-great-grandfather, whipped like a tempest through his veins.
These savages would pay dearly today, and with that last thought, he raced out of the trees.
—
“How long until they come crawling out into our loving arms?” shouted Rolf over the crackle of the burning house.
Thurston twirled a knife in his hand and grinned. “Another minute, I’d wager. They’re pretty girls and they know it. Even the old one!”
Rolf roared with laughter. “What do you say, Corbin? Do we have time to play?”
Corbin, the Elderhost, spat before eyeing his two men with a look that his master, Titannus, might have trembled at. “We kill and we move on to the next doomed home. We’re not pillaging today. Only destroying.”
Corbin watched through squinted eyes as the smoke poured through the open doorway. His men Thurston and Rolf held the opposite perimeters, making a triangular boundary of the squarish little farm home.
Rolf hooted from his angle. “Got one! No Two! Oh shit! Help!”
Corbin ran around the side of the house and saw a young woman climbing out a smoking window. Already on the ground were a man and woman who looked to be near forty years old. Each held a makeshift weapon—the two women held long carving knives, the man a rusty shovel.
“Put those nasty things down,” crooned Rolf, “and this will all go much easier for each of you.”
The husband waved his shovel like an outstretched torch, as if somehow the spade was a flame that could ward them off. Rolf and Thurston laughed loudly at the man’s effort.
Corbin moved steadily towards them, his sword drawn.
“Corbin!” shouted Thurston, and pointed his chin at something off to Corbin’s right, “Someone’s coming.”
Corbin stopped and half turned to look. At the edge of the woods was a cloaked figure running full speed towards them. The Elderhost gave a quick look back to his men, then peered at the family which was now huddled together, hemmed in by him and his men.
If he could have, Corbin would have liked to slaughter the family quick then deal with the mysterious incoming figure, but the speed with which the individual was closing on them didn’t lend them the chance.
“Careful,” growled Corbin, “You have my back while I deal with this newcomer.”
The cloaked figure slowed as he neared Corbin and flipped back his heavy dark hood. It was an older man, forties or fifties perhaps, with face shaved clean. He held nothing in his hands, but a long thick sheath hung strapped to his belt. The intruder continued to walk unflinchingly toward Corbin, and the Elderhost took a step back and raised his sword.
“That’s far enough,” called Corbin.
The cloaked man continued toward him without a word.
Corbin switched his sword to his left hand then reached with his right into his leathers and retrieved an amber colored stone. He held it out in his palm like a weapon.
This caused the oncoming man to pause.
A twisted smile formed on Corbin’s lips. “Ever heard of the name, Titannus? He’s Zarith Smith’s Master of War and he’s here with us now. You take one step closer and I’ll summon him. You don’t want that, trust me.”
The stranger cocked his head, and that’s when Corbin noticed the shade of purple in the cloaked man’s eyes.
“You ever hear of the legendary warrior, Terry Henry Walton?” called the cloaked man. The question was asked so calmly, it was as if everything Corbin had just declared had not caused the stranger the slightest amount of fear.
“What are you talking about?”
“I’m the man’s great-great-grandson, and I carry his mission with me.”
Corbin squinted at the man, then laughed. “I don’t give a shit about your dead grandpa. Not with a sissy name like Terry.” Corbin shot a quick glance over his shoulder at his two friends. “Do your jobs. I’ll take care of this little girl.”
The stranger’s eye darted over the Elderhost’s shoulder. The family, still huddled together, began to shout threats at his men who he knew were moving in to slay them.
Something flashed in the stranger’s hand and before Corbin could speak, it was thrown just wide of his head.
A blood-curdling cry spun Corbin full around. Rolf teetered for just a moment, sword frozen over his head, poised for attack. Only when the raider toppled forward did Corbin notice the silver handle of a knife jutting from Rolf’s right eye. Thurston’s face was ashen, and he made no attempt to pursue the family of three that rushed away past Rolf’s crumpled body.
“Get over here, Thurston!” called Corbin. “Help me carve this beardless bastard into steaks to feed to Zarith’s brutals.”
“Call Titannus” came Thurston’s quivering voice as he stepped up beside Corbin.
Corbin clicked his tongue against his teeth. “Not yet, let’s test what he’s made of first.” He turned to Thurston. “Flank him.”
____________________________________________________________________________________________
Thanks for reading this new snippet! I hope you enjoyed this glimpse of Daeken Zee Walton? I’m Reeeeealy excited to release Rogue Mage on the 11th and give you the full story 🙂
Check out Brandon Barr’s other books at http://www.brandonbarr.com
It’s Hell to Choose Audiobook Release!
It’s Hell to Choose, The Kurtherian Gambit Book 09
The audiobook for It’s Hell to Choose is now available!