Happy Birthday!!!
Here are a few snippets from my next novel. Enjoy!
Those of you interested in Phoenix, the most recent, can contact me for details on how to get a copy.
The car sped down the highway, and Leslie Randolph was basking in the sound of his own voice. Moray had not uttered a word. He endured the endless monologue, punctuated by an occasional dramatic sigh or rhetorical question, for several hours. Finally, something Leslie said caught his attention.
“What is about to happen here is going to sweep the galaxy! The Tholodine rampage will end! Father will be dead, and we'll be heroes on a thousand worlds in hundred dimensions! Just think! We'll drink for free, and there will be oral sex. Have you experienced oral sex in these bodies yet? It's marvelous! Humans like it even more than strawberries.”
“I thought you said, 'what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas,'” Moray felt that this point needed clarification. "How can it sweep the galaxy?"
"Pish, posh!” Leslie chirped. “That's just an expression.”
“I don't understand.”
“It's not really true. Human males go to Vegas with their friends to consume irresponsible amounts of intoxicating substances, visit prostitutes, and give their money away to people who tell them that they will have more money if they give it away. The expression just means that they aren't allowed to tell on each other when they come back. The sex, drugs, and gambling may happen in Vegas, but the syphilis and debt will follow them home. They just say that to make themselves feel better.”
“So why do humans go there?”
“Because it's fun!”
Moray digested this information. Leslie allowed him time to process.
“I think I hate you,” he said.
“Goodness.”
“I just thought you should know.”
“Fair enough.”
“Every minute I spend with you is like being locked in a room with a thousand monkeys pounding on a thousand typewriters. The pointless noise never stops.”
“Nobody uses typewriters anymore; you are misusing the expression.”
“That doesn't change the fact that I hate you.”
“Honesty is important. In the interests of reciprocity, I've always thought some glitter and sequins would tremendously improve your ridiculous mask. Normally I would keep that to myself, but since we're sharing, I thought I'd bring it up.”
“Noted.”
“Doesn't it feel better to clear the air?”
“No.”
“I went to school too, you know,” Adam informed the corpse in the back seat. “All this toxic waste makes me glad I stayed a philosophy major. Come to think of it,” he fumbled with a pack of cigarettes, and sighed a long, frustrated sigh when he remembered what had become of his lighter. “This might actually be the first time I’ve been glad to have stayed a philosophy major,” he returned the object to its package with an air of resignation. "Maybe... if I finished..." Adam was losing interest in the conversation, but wanted something to take his mind off of the throbbing cuts all over his body. They had managed to stop the bleeding from his severed earlobe with gauze from a medical kit that Adam kept in the car, but his wounds ached. "I make a mean cocktail, though," he added, defensively. "And I'm very punctual."
The cuts that were long were not deep, and the cuts that were deep were mostly small on the surface, puncture wounds from where the beasts had grabbed his arms and shoulders. Some stitches on his stomach wouldn't hurt, but he could live without them.
“You guys got the drop on me once,” he told the body. “It won’t happen again.” It was bravado, to be sure, but the corpse's silent condemnation of his failure to pursue a higher education had wounded him, and he felt the need to score a point.
Eve showed up in moments wheeling a large steel drum on a small handcart. She gestured to Adam to get out of the car. “You be the lookout while I get him inside.”
“Good idea,” he peeled off the bloody shirt, which was beginning to itch and stick to his skin. “I’m definitely not conspicuous. You don’t have a lighter, do you?”
“Why?”
“I want a cigarette. And you threw my lighter out the window.”
“So quit,” she stuffed the creature into the large barrel. “There we go. Now get over here and help me get him inside.” Adam sighed. It was going to be a long day. He thought fondly of the bottle in his trunk, sighed a second time, and grabbed the cart.
“There’s something else,” Moray reached down again and produced a long white object with a heavy looking knob wrapped in leather at the end of it. “Some of the Tholnodine are ahead.”
"I don't smell anything,” Lanark rolled down the window and stuck his head out,
“They’re disguising the scent, but I can feel them coming. Unless you want to wreck another truck I’d that suggest we stop and get out now.”
“That’s impossible. How could they disguise the scent?”
“I don’t care. They’re here. I know.”
Riccarti pulled over to the side of the road. “Do you want us to come with?”
“I’ve got it covered,” Moray replied. “There are only three of them, and even if we did blow their cover back at the club, they won’t dare shift this close to a lair. This will be a walk in the park.”
“What’s that in your hand?” Dr. Washington asked, breaking his new rule no sooner than it had been made.
“What does it look like?” Moray asked, turning around again, his pale blue eyes smoldering behind the skull-mask’s empty sockets.
“It looks like… well I suppose it must be some sort of arcane tool?”
“No,” he said. “I hit things with it.” The large man opened the door, stepped out of the vehicle, and began to run down the middle of the street. He held the long object in the air and gave a loud, piercing battle cry.
A volley of bullets came from the shadows on either side of the keening C'yairtomul warrior. As they reached him, they whirled like a tornado around his body and flew back into the shadows from whence they came.
“We don’t have time for these foolish games. We produce a body for me to inhabit, murder the man, possibly the woman, destroy our enemies, and rule this world with an iron fist. This isn’t difficult, Frederick. This is not a long-term plan. If you want to talk to me about long-term plans, let us discuss where my throne shall be, and from what city I shall condemn all that dare oppose me. Or, how about this? You always enjoyed arts and crafts. Would you like to design a flag for our new empire?”
“You mock me,” he said. “But heed my words: Falkirk is a monster. You just don’t see it. He may be an effective weapon, but he can’t be trusted to lead.”
“That is where you make your mistake. I’m not trusting Falkirk to lead, I’m trusting him to follow orders. I am the one who leads. Me, and me alone. You have stood as steward so long that you’ve become confused about what this is. Falkirk suffers from no such confusion. Am I making myself clear?”
“Yes, my lord.”
“Excellent. Now, has any progress been made toward finding a VIABLE physical form for me to inhabit?”
Frederick began to speak quickly. “We think we know what’s wrong. The vessel simply requires a form of consecration that we were unaware of at the time the first batch was conceived. If we can capture the man, we can see to it that this is achieved!”
“Very well,” Randolph said. “Describe the method.
Frederick did so. It was simple. Hardly a man, woman or child on earth does not know of it. To the Tholnodine, however, it was something quite new. Randolph scowled with disbelief at first, but when Frederick began to describe the underlying logic, he began to see the sense that it made. The vessels required a certain kind of connection to this world, something more than just a human father. It was a kind of initiation, not just for the parents, but for the children as well.
“Your brother is farsighted,” Randolph said at last. “Too farsighted, if you ask me, but this time he has come through. I suppose we can avoid banishing him, then.”
“For his sake, I’m glad to hear that.”
“But you will keep close watch over him, Frederick,” the wraith’s face leaned forward with menace. “Keep him away from the man at all costs. They must not be allowed to have any contact. Keep him active in our work. We don’t want the C'yairtomul to sense there is division in our ranks. Keep him busy.”
After his father swirled away into the void, Frederick buzzed Charles into his office.
“Do me a favor Charles, and help me clean this up. I hate to ask, but it’s not appropriate to leave for the janitorial staff.”
“Of course, sir!” Charles responded helpfully. “Is the boss in a good mood?”
“I sang. I danced. I told a white lie or two,” Frederick smiled to himself. “I’d wager that he’s in a pretty good mood now.”
“That’s kind of a stupid, don’t you think?” Eve said. “Have you met Adam? I haven’t known him for long, but he doesn’t strike me as the marrying kind. Maybe if he were drunk in Vegas. Something like that.” Her eyes narrowed at Leslie. “Wait, that’s not the plan, is it?"
“I don’t know the man,” Leslie chirped. “Why would they tell me? I just know what he wants because I’m the one who figured out they needed to be married.”
“Why?”
“It was my job! I didn’t know where it would lead.”
“No,” Eve stamped her foot. “Why do they have to be married for your father to be able to enter the body?”
“It’s weird,” Leslie admitted. “Let’s call them the bosses. They make the rules, not just for us, but also for the entire universe. All time, space, and reality.”
“Okay,” Eve said. “What about them?”
“I asked them. They told me.”
You… asked them?”
“It’s doable. There’s a bit of a trick to it, but it’s less tricky than you’d expect. It just takes a little practice. Might I remind you that I pulled you here through a hole in the air? I am a man of many talents.”
“And fine qualities,” she added.
“Very fine qualities,” Leslie crowed with pleasure. “I’m glad you’re coming around to my point of view on the matter.”
“Bold, cunning, insightful….”
“Yes. You may continue if you like. I shall have more coffee brought in if you foresee this becoming a lengthy symposium on the subject of my virtues.”
“My point is this,” she said. “With all your power and guile, why is this cage necessary? It seems beneath you."
"Why?” he was horrified. “Is it uncomfortable?”
“Leslie dear, it’s a cage.”
“It’s a lovely cage! With a comfortable cot!”
“Would you like being locked in a cage?”
“I’m sure that I could manage.”
“Give me a break.”
“That will not be necessary. I have a key. I’m just not sure that letting you out would be appropriate at this juncture. Trust takes time.”
“We don’t have time. Look, I heard your story. I believe you. I even feel like I trust you. I don’t know why. I guess I just think that someone trying to put one over on me would have a more plausible story.”
“Good show!” he sang. “My, you ARE perceptive. Yes, I see what you mean; a neat little story is probably a lie. The truth is always messy.” He thought about it. “Okay then. You keep the cot, but here,” he handed her a small golden key on the end of a long silver chain. “Come and go as you like, but don’t climb the stairs. That would be disastrous.”
“No problem,” Eve said, as she stood up and unlocked the door. She allowed it to swing open and left it there.
“Feel better?” Leslie crooned.
“Yes,” she sat back down on the cot. “Very much so. It’s really the little things that count.”
“Truer words were never spoken. Are we ready to return to the point at issue?”
“Fire away.”
“This marriage has to happen voluntarily. Adam can’t be coerced. And he must be in love. So must she, as a matter of fact, or it simply won’t work. That’s the biggest problem of all. He’s already in love with her.”
“She was one of the dragons who went to him for impregnation?”
“She was the only one. My cousin, Nocturna. We felt it would be best to breed consistently. Also, there aren't that many of us. She has the correct, shall we say, temperament, to appeal to Adam's finer feelings. Or base desires, depending on your values."
"But is she in love with him?”
“That’s tricky,” Leslie admitted. “She is. But you have to know my cousin to get it. She’s loved many men over the years. It always ends the same way. I won’t get into the details. Let’s just say that she has abandonment issues. When she falls in love she, invariably endeavors to become one with her beloved.”
“Isn’t that standard? That’s what love is, right? That’s the whole point of marriage. You become one with another.”
“Think… what do you call them? Black widow spiders.”
“Oh,” Eve grasped his point. “Okay.
She sat on her cot and scratched her head. Eve was beginning to fall into her old pattern of analysis. “Why are you turning on your own people?”
“I told you how all this began, didn’t I?” Leslie cocked his head to one side and wobbled it back and forth in thought. “I've got my eye on the big picture. They don't know it yet, but the C’yairtomul have already got what they wanted. I used to agree with father. Why go back? I'm a 'move forward' kind of guy. And I certainly wasn’t above committing whatever atrocities were necessary to accomplish that goal.”
“Atrocities?”
“That’s all behind me now.”
“So you used to do bad things, and now you don’t.”
“Oh my goodness. I used to do terrible things! But that’s the past.”
“Things like locking people in cages?”
“Never. I hate leftovers. Besides, I gave you strawberries. I don’t see why you’re complaining. I was in charge of what you would call the secret service. Intelligence. This involved a number of horrors that I am happy to say I committed with pleasure. I enjoy horrors! They’re fun! Horrors are to me as strawberries are to you. Not quite oral sex, but close.”
“That… clarifies things, I suppose.”
“Now that we're here," he swooned. "I never want to leave again. Leslie Randolph has wandered enough! If father takes over this world he'll ruin it, and it will just be one more Tholodine ravaged planet. It's exciting the first few thousand times, but lately, they all just look the same to me."
"We appreciate your support. So riddle me this, sunshine. If all we have to do is stop them from getting married, why can’t we tell Adam what you just told me?”
Those of you interested in Phoenix, the most recent, can contact me for details on how to get a copy.
The car sped down the highway, and Leslie Randolph was basking in the sound of his own voice. Moray had not uttered a word. He endured the endless monologue, punctuated by an occasional dramatic sigh or rhetorical question, for several hours. Finally, something Leslie said caught his attention.
“What is about to happen here is going to sweep the galaxy! The Tholodine rampage will end! Father will be dead, and we'll be heroes on a thousand worlds in hundred dimensions! Just think! We'll drink for free, and there will be oral sex. Have you experienced oral sex in these bodies yet? It's marvelous! Humans like it even more than strawberries.”
“I thought you said, 'what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas,'” Moray felt that this point needed clarification. "How can it sweep the galaxy?"
"Pish, posh!” Leslie chirped. “That's just an expression.”
“I don't understand.”
“It's not really true. Human males go to Vegas with their friends to consume irresponsible amounts of intoxicating substances, visit prostitutes, and give their money away to people who tell them that they will have more money if they give it away. The expression just means that they aren't allowed to tell on each other when they come back. The sex, drugs, and gambling may happen in Vegas, but the syphilis and debt will follow them home. They just say that to make themselves feel better.”
“So why do humans go there?”
“Because it's fun!”
Moray digested this information. Leslie allowed him time to process.
“I think I hate you,” he said.
“Goodness.”
“I just thought you should know.”
“Fair enough.”
“Every minute I spend with you is like being locked in a room with a thousand monkeys pounding on a thousand typewriters. The pointless noise never stops.”
“Nobody uses typewriters anymore; you are misusing the expression.”
“That doesn't change the fact that I hate you.”
“Honesty is important. In the interests of reciprocity, I've always thought some glitter and sequins would tremendously improve your ridiculous mask. Normally I would keep that to myself, but since we're sharing, I thought I'd bring it up.”
“Noted.”
“Doesn't it feel better to clear the air?”
“No.”
“I went to school too, you know,” Adam informed the corpse in the back seat. “All this toxic waste makes me glad I stayed a philosophy major. Come to think of it,” he fumbled with a pack of cigarettes, and sighed a long, frustrated sigh when he remembered what had become of his lighter. “This might actually be the first time I’ve been glad to have stayed a philosophy major,” he returned the object to its package with an air of resignation. "Maybe... if I finished..." Adam was losing interest in the conversation, but wanted something to take his mind off of the throbbing cuts all over his body. They had managed to stop the bleeding from his severed earlobe with gauze from a medical kit that Adam kept in the car, but his wounds ached. "I make a mean cocktail, though," he added, defensively. "And I'm very punctual."
The cuts that were long were not deep, and the cuts that were deep were mostly small on the surface, puncture wounds from where the beasts had grabbed his arms and shoulders. Some stitches on his stomach wouldn't hurt, but he could live without them.
“You guys got the drop on me once,” he told the body. “It won’t happen again.” It was bravado, to be sure, but the corpse's silent condemnation of his failure to pursue a higher education had wounded him, and he felt the need to score a point.
Eve showed up in moments wheeling a large steel drum on a small handcart. She gestured to Adam to get out of the car. “You be the lookout while I get him inside.”
“Good idea,” he peeled off the bloody shirt, which was beginning to itch and stick to his skin. “I’m definitely not conspicuous. You don’t have a lighter, do you?”
“Why?”
“I want a cigarette. And you threw my lighter out the window.”
“So quit,” she stuffed the creature into the large barrel. “There we go. Now get over here and help me get him inside.” Adam sighed. It was going to be a long day. He thought fondly of the bottle in his trunk, sighed a second time, and grabbed the cart.
“There’s something else,” Moray reached down again and produced a long white object with a heavy looking knob wrapped in leather at the end of it. “Some of the Tholnodine are ahead.”
"I don't smell anything,” Lanark rolled down the window and stuck his head out,
“They’re disguising the scent, but I can feel them coming. Unless you want to wreck another truck I’d that suggest we stop and get out now.”
“That’s impossible. How could they disguise the scent?”
“I don’t care. They’re here. I know.”
Riccarti pulled over to the side of the road. “Do you want us to come with?”
“I’ve got it covered,” Moray replied. “There are only three of them, and even if we did blow their cover back at the club, they won’t dare shift this close to a lair. This will be a walk in the park.”
“What’s that in your hand?” Dr. Washington asked, breaking his new rule no sooner than it had been made.
“What does it look like?” Moray asked, turning around again, his pale blue eyes smoldering behind the skull-mask’s empty sockets.
“It looks like… well I suppose it must be some sort of arcane tool?”
“No,” he said. “I hit things with it.” The large man opened the door, stepped out of the vehicle, and began to run down the middle of the street. He held the long object in the air and gave a loud, piercing battle cry.
A volley of bullets came from the shadows on either side of the keening C'yairtomul warrior. As they reached him, they whirled like a tornado around his body and flew back into the shadows from whence they came.
“We don’t have time for these foolish games. We produce a body for me to inhabit, murder the man, possibly the woman, destroy our enemies, and rule this world with an iron fist. This isn’t difficult, Frederick. This is not a long-term plan. If you want to talk to me about long-term plans, let us discuss where my throne shall be, and from what city I shall condemn all that dare oppose me. Or, how about this? You always enjoyed arts and crafts. Would you like to design a flag for our new empire?”
“You mock me,” he said. “But heed my words: Falkirk is a monster. You just don’t see it. He may be an effective weapon, but he can’t be trusted to lead.”
“That is where you make your mistake. I’m not trusting Falkirk to lead, I’m trusting him to follow orders. I am the one who leads. Me, and me alone. You have stood as steward so long that you’ve become confused about what this is. Falkirk suffers from no such confusion. Am I making myself clear?”
“Yes, my lord.”
“Excellent. Now, has any progress been made toward finding a VIABLE physical form for me to inhabit?”
Frederick began to speak quickly. “We think we know what’s wrong. The vessel simply requires a form of consecration that we were unaware of at the time the first batch was conceived. If we can capture the man, we can see to it that this is achieved!”
“Very well,” Randolph said. “Describe the method.
Frederick did so. It was simple. Hardly a man, woman or child on earth does not know of it. To the Tholnodine, however, it was something quite new. Randolph scowled with disbelief at first, but when Frederick began to describe the underlying logic, he began to see the sense that it made. The vessels required a certain kind of connection to this world, something more than just a human father. It was a kind of initiation, not just for the parents, but for the children as well.
“Your brother is farsighted,” Randolph said at last. “Too farsighted, if you ask me, but this time he has come through. I suppose we can avoid banishing him, then.”
“For his sake, I’m glad to hear that.”
“But you will keep close watch over him, Frederick,” the wraith’s face leaned forward with menace. “Keep him away from the man at all costs. They must not be allowed to have any contact. Keep him active in our work. We don’t want the C'yairtomul to sense there is division in our ranks. Keep him busy.”
After his father swirled away into the void, Frederick buzzed Charles into his office.
“Do me a favor Charles, and help me clean this up. I hate to ask, but it’s not appropriate to leave for the janitorial staff.”
“Of course, sir!” Charles responded helpfully. “Is the boss in a good mood?”
“I sang. I danced. I told a white lie or two,” Frederick smiled to himself. “I’d wager that he’s in a pretty good mood now.”
“That’s kind of a stupid, don’t you think?” Eve said. “Have you met Adam? I haven’t known him for long, but he doesn’t strike me as the marrying kind. Maybe if he were drunk in Vegas. Something like that.” Her eyes narrowed at Leslie. “Wait, that’s not the plan, is it?"
“I don’t know the man,” Leslie chirped. “Why would they tell me? I just know what he wants because I’m the one who figured out they needed to be married.”
“Why?”
“It was my job! I didn’t know where it would lead.”
“No,” Eve stamped her foot. “Why do they have to be married for your father to be able to enter the body?”
“It’s weird,” Leslie admitted. “Let’s call them the bosses. They make the rules, not just for us, but also for the entire universe. All time, space, and reality.”
“Okay,” Eve said. “What about them?”
“I asked them. They told me.”
You… asked them?”
“It’s doable. There’s a bit of a trick to it, but it’s less tricky than you’d expect. It just takes a little practice. Might I remind you that I pulled you here through a hole in the air? I am a man of many talents.”
“And fine qualities,” she added.
“Very fine qualities,” Leslie crowed with pleasure. “I’m glad you’re coming around to my point of view on the matter.”
“Bold, cunning, insightful….”
“Yes. You may continue if you like. I shall have more coffee brought in if you foresee this becoming a lengthy symposium on the subject of my virtues.”
“My point is this,” she said. “With all your power and guile, why is this cage necessary? It seems beneath you."
"Why?” he was horrified. “Is it uncomfortable?”
“Leslie dear, it’s a cage.”
“It’s a lovely cage! With a comfortable cot!”
“Would you like being locked in a cage?”
“I’m sure that I could manage.”
“Give me a break.”
“That will not be necessary. I have a key. I’m just not sure that letting you out would be appropriate at this juncture. Trust takes time.”
“We don’t have time. Look, I heard your story. I believe you. I even feel like I trust you. I don’t know why. I guess I just think that someone trying to put one over on me would have a more plausible story.”
“Good show!” he sang. “My, you ARE perceptive. Yes, I see what you mean; a neat little story is probably a lie. The truth is always messy.” He thought about it. “Okay then. You keep the cot, but here,” he handed her a small golden key on the end of a long silver chain. “Come and go as you like, but don’t climb the stairs. That would be disastrous.”
“No problem,” Eve said, as she stood up and unlocked the door. She allowed it to swing open and left it there.
“Feel better?” Leslie crooned.
“Yes,” she sat back down on the cot. “Very much so. It’s really the little things that count.”
“Truer words were never spoken. Are we ready to return to the point at issue?”
“Fire away.”
“This marriage has to happen voluntarily. Adam can’t be coerced. And he must be in love. So must she, as a matter of fact, or it simply won’t work. That’s the biggest problem of all. He’s already in love with her.”
“She was one of the dragons who went to him for impregnation?”
“She was the only one. My cousin, Nocturna. We felt it would be best to breed consistently. Also, there aren't that many of us. She has the correct, shall we say, temperament, to appeal to Adam's finer feelings. Or base desires, depending on your values."
"But is she in love with him?”
“That’s tricky,” Leslie admitted. “She is. But you have to know my cousin to get it. She’s loved many men over the years. It always ends the same way. I won’t get into the details. Let’s just say that she has abandonment issues. When she falls in love she, invariably endeavors to become one with her beloved.”
“Isn’t that standard? That’s what love is, right? That’s the whole point of marriage. You become one with another.”
“Think… what do you call them? Black widow spiders.”
“Oh,” Eve grasped his point. “Okay.
She sat on her cot and scratched her head. Eve was beginning to fall into her old pattern of analysis. “Why are you turning on your own people?”
“I told you how all this began, didn’t I?” Leslie cocked his head to one side and wobbled it back and forth in thought. “I've got my eye on the big picture. They don't know it yet, but the C’yairtomul have already got what they wanted. I used to agree with father. Why go back? I'm a 'move forward' kind of guy. And I certainly wasn’t above committing whatever atrocities were necessary to accomplish that goal.”
“Atrocities?”
“That’s all behind me now.”
“So you used to do bad things, and now you don’t.”
“Oh my goodness. I used to do terrible things! But that’s the past.”
“Things like locking people in cages?”
“Never. I hate leftovers. Besides, I gave you strawberries. I don’t see why you’re complaining. I was in charge of what you would call the secret service. Intelligence. This involved a number of horrors that I am happy to say I committed with pleasure. I enjoy horrors! They’re fun! Horrors are to me as strawberries are to you. Not quite oral sex, but close.”
“That… clarifies things, I suppose.”
“Now that we're here," he swooned. "I never want to leave again. Leslie Randolph has wandered enough! If father takes over this world he'll ruin it, and it will just be one more Tholodine ravaged planet. It's exciting the first few thousand times, but lately, they all just look the same to me."
"We appreciate your support. So riddle me this, sunshine. If all we have to do is stop them from getting married, why can’t we tell Adam what you just told me?”