Girls and Books

Guys, have you ever asked out an absolutely beautiful girl who hasn’t gotten back to you promptly.  Then another amazing girl shows up on your radar that you want to ask out.  You can’t ask the second girl out because the first girl might still answer yes.  In fact, you expect her to do so…in time.  On the other hand you hate to lose the time you could be enjoying with the second girl.  If only life had been so simple for me when I was younger?  Now replace the girls with books.  The first girl represents the book still at the editor’s.  Are the corrections taking this long or did I cross the line with my number of corrections.  Now think of the second girl as the second book I want to start.  Once I start something, if I don’t finish it I tend to forget parts.  That causes huge delays and eventually rewrites.  Once the book is published there will be a great deal of promotion to do.  I can’t concentrate on that and writing a book.  My mind does not multitask on these things.  So I’m stuck without a girlfriend, as it were.  One I have to wait for and can’t do anything about.  The other is there for the taking but I must wait for the first one’s response.  I know there’s some fellow with bravado out there saying he’d date them both.  Well my friend, it doesn’t work in life with girls or books.  Take my word for it.  Once again all I can do is wait for girl 1 or the book at the publisher.  Girl 2 has been waiting over 30 years for me to take her out.  She can wait a little bit longer.    

Tuesday Excerpt, "Revenge"

Mandrean bent down to bring his face directly in front of

Necromancer’s. “You say you’re patient, but you’re not. You want

me dead so badly it’s eating you up inside. I know you just as you

think you know me. You wanted Grithinshield to murder me. The

fact that he failed is tormenting you day after day.”

Necromancer looked away during the speech and then focused

on the emperor.

“The only thing tormenting me is your minute intellect.”

“Say you are a spineless coward who can’t do things

himself…Say it,” Mandrean ordered as he stepped back.

Necromancer stood and looked Mandrean in the eyes. “Very

well, Sire. You are a spineless coward who can’t do things

himself.”

“Not me, idiot! Say I’m a spineless coward,” Mandrean raged.

“But I just told you that you are a spineless coward. If your

grace has forgotten, I would gladly tell him again.”

The master lost his temper and threw a stool across the room.

He stood by Necromancer shaking from his anger in frustration at

not being able to let it out at the wizard.

“Now,” Mandrean bellowed as he began to circle the albino,

“you didn’t help Grithinshield by any chance, did you?” He paused

and heard nothing in reply. “I didn’t think so,” Mandrean said with

sarcasm. “Because if you had helped Linvin kill me, that would

violate our little arrangement and present serious repercussions for

you.”

Necromancer did not speak. He merely looked away. Mandrean

found the silence more infuriating than the rude comments the

servant normally made.

“You do remember the agreement, do you not?” Necromancer

looked at him with a face that acknowledged the absurdity of the

question. That expression alone put his benefactor over the edge.

“You must follow my commands to the letter,” Mandrean

yelled. As if to prove his point, he barked an order.

Water had spilled on the floor from the bath. It made the surface

slippery and dangerous. “I wouldn’t want to slip and hurt myself in

a fall. Dry up all the water on the floor immediately!”

Necromancer rose and smiled knowingly. Then he waved his

hand. The floor turned red as it instantly became superheated. In as

much time as it took Mandrean to scream in pain and leap into the

water, all the liquid on the ground was dried and gone.

Necromancer was unaffected by the sudden change in ground

temperature as he hovered above the floor. He bowed in jest and

said, “As you commanded, Oh, great one, all the water on the floor

was dried up. Do you have any other commands that I may follow

so precisely?”

Waiting...

It took longer than I expected but I finally finished my last edits on “Repercussions Abound.”  Now it is in the hands of my publisher.  Will they go along with the numerous changes I have made?  Will they ignore my changes and print it as is?  Like I said, it’s in their hands.  I’ve had publishers make my changes before printing and I’ve had them ignore my opinions.  It can be a frustrating time but in the end the writer usually has to make some concessions.  After all, the publisher holds all the power in this situation from the time you first submit your manuscript.  All I can do now is sit and wait.  I often refer to my works as my children.  This is like sending your children to school on the first day and waiting for the bus to drop them off to you at the end of the day to see how it all went.  The tension is tremendous.  To distract myself I am reveling in my first book, “Quest for the Red Sapphire” receiving a five star review!  It was a glowing endorsement and really made my day.  You can read it on Goodreads https://www.goodreads.com/review/show?id=1259661705 or Amazon.  It was a ray of sunshine on a rainy day.  It’s always nice to hear someone loved one of your babies.  

Tuesday Excerpt, "Crucible"

General Maxion was the first to step forward. He cried aloud, “Pawns.” Three young boys dressed entirely in black rushed from their seats on the benches toward the map on the floor, in between Maxion and the Emperor. Each boy had a number sewn onto his shirt. They were clearly numbered one, two and three.

They all took up positions north of Marinhalk on the map. One went to the extreme north, closest to the Emperor. Two and Three took up positions parallel to one another further south on the map.

Maxion bowed in a grand gesture and addressed his Emperor. “My good Lord Mandrean, my Province continues to flourish. The mines continue to produce vast quantities of precious ores. Iron mining has nearly doubled since our last meeting. Lumber also is progressing well into the northern wilderness. Our contribution to the glory of the Empire is clear and noteworthy.

“The First Division patrols the border with the Ice Giants to the north. The Second and Third Divisions are segmented into garrisons and placed around the key mining and forestry production to prevent slave revolt. All is well with my Province.”

Mandrean looked irritated and handed his goblet to Fendri without saying a word. He stood and observed the pawns’ position in detail. “As usual,” he barked. “You tell only the side of the story you want to be heard. What of the revolts in the mines?”

“As I mentioned, My Lord, the Second and Third Divisions are in place to prevent such instances.”

Mandrean appeared evermore lucid as he paced before his general. “So I was misinformed that gold production was brought to a halt for nearly a month? Are you saying the reports were wrong about your subordinates selling the slaves’ food for profit to line their pockets and afford their…attire? Are you also saying that the chain of revolts by starving slaves that followed did not require both the Second and Third Divisions to quell? In doing so I suppose it would also not be true that crushing the revolt reduced the work force by half. So did these things happen or are you simply withholding my gold shipments?”

Maxion’s arrogance evaporated in the light of the disclosure. After a moment’s pause he replied. “My Good Lord, the facts of these matters have at the least been contorted and spun in a most incorrect manner.”

“Well,” Mandrean said as he walked forcefully to his general and stared him in the eye. “Why don’t you explain it in a way that will not have your skin hanging from the battlements of this building?”

Maxion’s words sputtered out slowly. “You see…the Ice Giants have increased their tribute demands. If we do not meet their quota of food, we risk them coming into our realm this winter and taking what they wish. I do not have sufficient men to fend off such an attack. It was for that reason some of the provisions intended for the slaves were diverted to the offering. In hindsight, we gave too much and the slaves rebelled. The results were unfortunate but could have been considerably worse if we had not paid the ransom.”

Mandrean struck his palm to his forehead. “So let me understand. You took provisions from the workers and caused a mutiny with great loss in manpower and production and I am supposed to believe you did it for the good of the Empire?”

“Those would not be my words, My Lord, but the essence is correct.”

Mandrean produced a knife from his sleeve and held it to Maxion’s throat. “I will investigate your statements. If I find the slightest discrepancy in the story, I will peel your skin like that of a potato and feed it to the hogs. Now get out of my sight.” Maxion stepped back and performed more of a courtesy than a bow. Then he meekly returned to his seat.

Final Edits

The final edits are back for me to go over and look for errors.  After I’m done with this, the book should be ready to go.  Now I have to be meticulous and be sure nothing was missed.  It won’t be long now until you will have your chance to get “Repercussions Abound” and find out what happens next in the story.  It should be out in September.

Tuesday Excerpt, "Quest"

The first man came to a stop not more than ten paces away from the one blocking his path. Then he spoke. “You certainly chose an obscure place for this transaction, Mr…”

The second man answered. “My name is of no consequence here, but yours is Dirk Grithinshield. I suppose you would have preferred to do business in your sizable store in the merchant district, but I find this setting more to my liking.”

“Your odds are better as well,” Dirk commented dryly.  “You can tell your men surrounding me to come out.  We are alone, and  I already know where they are hiding.”

“You are mistaken,” the man said halfheartedly.  “The agreement was that we each come alone.”

“Indeed, that was the arrangement,” Dirk confirmed.  “You can tell that I have not been followed.  However, I can see the breath of your men hiding there, there, there and there.”  Dirk pointed at places in a circle around him.  “It makes me wonder if you have kept your word on the rest of our bargain.”

The man waved, then four armed men stepped out of the shadows and moved closer to Dirk. “You’re observant, Grithinshield.  I’ll give you that.”

Dirk sighed in a tone that suggested that the situation did not surprise him in the least.  “I could inquire further about your expected deception, but I want this transaction to be over with as soon as possible.  Do you have the key I seek?”

The man was angered that his actions were anticipated and that they had not intimidated Dirk as he had hoped.  “I have the key, but I didn’t hear any coins jingle as you were walking.  That makes me wonder if you have the money on which we agreed.”

“I am quite prepared for you, good sir,” Dirk answered.  “The money is close by. Now, since you appear to have me at a disadvantage, and I am the one who has kept his word so far, you will show me what I am purchasing first.”

The man scowled and produced a golden key from his pocket.  Begrudgingly, he tossed it to the waiting right hand of Grithinshield. Dirk ran his fingers down its length and looked at its handle in detail.  Then, he tossed it back to the man who caught it in midair in an effort to defend his face.

“That is a poor attempt at a forgery,” Dirk said sternly.  “Not only is the key warped, but you can see a glimpse of the iron underneath, where it was held as it was dipped in a coating.  The key I seek is solid gold.  Your credibility is dwindling by the moment and I am mildly annoyed.  Show me the real key, if you have it, or you will not see a single gold pharring.”

Wednesday Excerpt, "Revenge"

“What can I do to be of service, Sire?”

Mandrean leaned forward. “I want to know what you have

found out about the staff for the Blue Sapphire. I charged you with

finding it some time ago. Having found its mate in the red staff it

should pose no problem for you.”

“That being such a simple task, I suppose you think I should

have found it by now?” Necromancer quipped. “But you fail to

remember that the only reason we located the red staff in the first

place was because an agent told me that Dirk Grithinshield had it

in Sartan. That was a stroke of luck. Such luck does not happen

twice. Surrender your quest.”

“Don’t be a fool. I could no more surrender my quest than I

could my right hand. The stick you made me does not give me full

access to the Blue Sapphire’s powers.”

“That stick,” Necromancer defended, “gives you nearly all the

ability of equally the most powerful magic in the world you could

possess. No one other than I could have made you that stick. Be

thankful for what you have been given.”

“But that still does not give me the power I need to defeat

Linvin Grithinshield.”

“The blue staff won’t either. It will only make your magic equal

to Grithinshield’s. Your magic will just cancel each other out. The

colors are opposites in the magical hierarchy. Did you not learn

that in your battle in the Valley of Broken Soldiers? A fight would

come down to your strength against his, your will against his and

your skill against his. If you could be honest with yourself for one

moment, you would admit that you will never be his equal there.”

Necromancer paused while Mandrean seethed. He returned to

antagonism after reading his master’s expressions. “Why keep

pressing the issue with the half-elf? What? Is that stomach wound

still hurting? If not for me, you would be a corpse.”

Mandrean erupted. “And you waited long enough to heal me. I

was nearly dead.” He dismissed the servants tending the fire and

swam to the edge of the bath near the wizard. “How long did you

wait? Hmm? How much of my blood did you let spill before you

saved my life? You waited as long as you could in hope that I was

dead, didn’t you? Any longer and my men would have thought you

didn’t want me to live. In fact, if I had not been awake to order you

to save me, I think you would have let me expire right then.”

Necromancer smiled with a wicked expression only he could

make. “Of course, I was eager for you to die.” Necromancer said it

in a deep, monotone voice. “It’s a shame you bleed so slowly. I

was nearly rid of you. As for that wound, even my magic cannot

heal another person. I could only repair some of the physical

damage Linvin inflicted. Your lack of permanent healing is

influenced more by your flimsy body.”

The words shook Mandrean to his roots. He maintained a front

of anger to cover his distress. “Oh no, Necromancer, you will

never be rid of me. I will make your life as horrible and demeaning

as I possibly can without end.”

Necromancer chuckled under his breath and knelt by his lord.

“You are wrong, and you know it,” he whispered. “I have all the

time that will ever be. And I have something you do not possess

despite all of your possessions. Patience.”

Deep inside Mandrean knew his wizard’s words to be true but

wouldn’t admit it even in his mind. He rose from the tub and

donned a robe. Still dripping wet, he approached his underling.

Mandrean bent down to bring his face directly in front of

Necromancer’s. “You say you’re patient, but you’re not. You want

me dead so badly it’s eating you up inside. I know you just as you

think you know me. You wanted Grithinshield to murder me. The

fact that he failed is tormenting you day after day.”

Necromancer looked away during the speech and then focused

on the emperor.

“The only thing tormenting me is your minute intellect.”