War Wolves Books 1 and 2 now available on Amazon!
Besides the white noise of the ocean and the few seagulls overhead, the base at Port Hueneme was as silent as a tomb. Riot pulled the jeep in an did a quick scan of the area. It appeared, for all intents and purposes, to be a deserted shell. Fences that once stood imposing and sturdy were now broken and bent. Bombed-out buildings lay demolished all around them.
“Uhhh, I don’t want to piss on your parade here,” Vet said as he straightened up in his seat, craning his neck to see all around him. “Still, I think I should tell you that Port Hueneme was abandoned after the initial Syndicate attack. They hit us hard here. We left this post and regrouped down south.”
“Just wait.” Riot maneuvered the jeep through the maze of crumbling buildings, overturned vehicles, and field of debris. “Do you remember Captain Harlan?”
“Uh, yeah. Every push-up he made us do, every mile he made us run.” Vet took another look around the destroyed area to make sure he wasn’t missing anything. “He’s here?”
Riot finally pulled the jeep to a stop beside a two-story building made of cream-colored cement. One side of the building had caved in on itself.
“When we destroyed the Syndicate, they left us information telling us this was all a test. They were preparing us for a much larger invasion from the true enemy. Captain Harlan is heading up a Marine division called SPEAR to deal with this new threat, and their HQ is here at the Bulwark.” Riot nodded to the building in front of them. “That’s why you’re here with me now. I want you on my squad for this mission. You’re the best mechanic I’ve ever met, and even with your vision, you’re one hell of a shot.” read more…
War Wolves Books 1 and 2 now available on Amazon!
They had been through it all, including the Syndicate invasion and the world that waited for them at the other end. But what he had just said couldn’t stand.
“That’s disgusting,” Riot said grimacing. “Is that why you haven’t asked to pull over in the last six hours?”
Vet looked at her, arching the eyebrow of his one good eye. The other eye was completely gone, covered now by a steel eye patch that latched into the skin around the vacant hole. His Indian heritage spoke for itself with his dark hair and brown eye.
“Think about it. It’s the most natural, efficient way to travel,” Vet said, adjusting the seatbelt over his compact, muscular chest. “This is a perfect example right now. We’re almost there, but you have to pull over to piss. I’m just fine.”
“No, you’re not fine.” Riot shook her head, concentrating on the road in front of them. Their jeep hit a road bump, causing the vehicle to swerve on the broken asphalt. “You’re sitting in your own poop and piss.” read more…
Fires smoldered, sending a steady plume of black smoke over the town supposedly populated by water mages. The sight was enough to give Andreas doubts about their location. How could water mages have let this happen?
Still, given all the fighting he had seen—including the crazy sorcerers—it wasn’t unthinkable. Why nobody had bothered to put out the fires, though, was another question.
“Looks like we’re too late,” Lars said as they came around the bend, now better able to see the town that had been destroyed.
“Wait… There!” Kim was at the wheel of the ship, eyes narrowed, pointing.
Sure enough, someone was moving toward them, and then they saw more than one. A whole group was coming their way.
“Friend or foe?” Lars asked.
“That’s what we’re about to find out,” Andreas replied, staff gripped firmly in his hand. If there was trouble he was ready to get them out of there quickly, with a little help from the waves and wind.
“Would you look at that?” Kim exclaimed. “Horses!” read more…
UNEDITED (Shades of Justice is book 4 in the Hidden Magic Chronicles)
Alastar took an offensive stance and closed his eyes, imagining the goddess, Lady Mowain—his aunt—standing before him. Wind blew against his cheek, warm and gentle like Estair’s nighttime touch. It with it brought the scent of the upcoming palace feast, still cooking while training continued in the yard.
He wasn’t training there, though. He had found a secluded spot to focus on this damned sword.
With a quick thrust he dove forward, focusing his energy on the sword. He tried to pretend the legend was real and pull the power from the Sword of Light.
It didn’t matter how much he practiced or willed it to be so, it was just another sword. How many times had he heard the story of the magical blade and its green glow when blessed? It had the fabled jade-encrusted hilt, to be sure, but that was about the extent of its being true to the legend. When he had fought with it in battle and cast his magic, it had glowed white like any other sword he had ever wielded.
He sighed, holding the sword out with one hand and staring at the fine craftsmanship. Who was he kidding, anyway? Hope that it was the magical Sword of Light meant he was still grasping at a lost cause, at the idea that there had been any truth to be had in the Order of Rodrick.
Instead, it had all been a lie. His entire life, or most of the part that he could remember, had been a lie. His aunt had killed his mother, taken him and his sister away from their father, and left them with the madman he had grown up thinking was his mentor. His spiritual leader, Sir Gildon of the Order of Rodrick.
And then he had killed that son of a bitch. And his sister Rhona had taken out Lady Mowain’s daughter, and little Kia had done a pretty number on Master Irdin. All in all, they were doing quite well.
Hell, he was even a prince, and his sister was a princess! read more…