After some absence from my blog, I figured it’s time to update it a bit. Dual Visions and Hell’s Gate are still not available from Fictionwise. You can only buy them at http://www.midnightshowcase.com/ , and I don’t know how sales are going there. I’m anxious to find out how both books are doing. The rest of my books (The Xandra trilogy and Book one of Seeds of Chaos ‘Eden’s Gate’ are moving up and down on the scale. I’m waiting for a couple of reviews of Hell’s Gate. If they are favorable, they will spawn a new flurry of buys (usually).
Still busy with ‘Tarnished Valor’. I’ve got over 40,000 words now and lots more to go. Haven’t had too much time lately to write. Work in the yard. Tore apart one flowerbed and replanted some shrubs. Good thing we finished. With all the rain we’ve been having, it is hard to get much done. And the grass is growing well, now we just need the sunshine so it can be cut. Last time I cut, it was June 15. I’ll have to bag it again and take the clippings to the dump. Without bagging, I can cut it in about two hours. With bagging, it sometimes takes three hours. Too bad I can’t listen to my MP3 player while I’m cutting. That damned lawn tractor is so loud you only hear parts of the music and it doesn’t sound good. Even wearing earmuffs doesn’t help. And I can’t think about the stories I write, because I need to concentrate on operating the tractor. What a bummer!
We’ve had pretty bad weather this weekend. Tornados and terrible thunderstorms with enough rain to last us for a while. Our yard is littered with branches from the willows. More work. And we always thought we were safe in Manitoba from tornados. They only happen south of the border. Yeah, right! The one on Thursday was a Stage 4 with winds over 400 km an hour. Apparently, over 1000 cottages were damaged in the Whiteshell and many trees uprooted and down. Many places still don’t have power because of the downed hydro poles. Wonderful planet we live on.
We had a garage sale on Saturday. Sold $33.00 worth of stuff. Not really worth the trouble. Parted with over 80 over my Hunting and Fishing magazines, got six bucks for them. It is tough to let go of books, especially if you’re a collector, but I figured I haven’t looked at them for years and probably never will again. They’ve been stored away in boxes on a shelf. This way somebody else can enjoy them.
Since I’ve been talking about ‘Tarnished Valor’, here is a short excerpt:
He walked past the cages, glanced at the glistening bodies of the nude dancing girls and the half-drunken men watching them.
They’d be screwing them on the tables if the law allowed it, Jeff thought.
When he arrived at the door with the Private sign on it, two burly guys barred his way.
“I guess you can’t read signs. This is a private room, buddy,” one growled. “Beat it!”
Jeff gave him a friendly smile. “I want to talk to your boss.”
“He’s busy. Besides, Mr. Galliano doesn’t talk to anyone without an appointment.”
“I’m making one. Right now.”
“You’ll have to talk to his secretary, but it’s her day off.”
“I don’t really need the secretary to make the appointment,” Jeff said, losing his patience.
“Then you won’t get in, stupid. Now, get the fuck outa here! I’m not telling you again.”
Jeff had been seizing up the guard, who outweighed his 235 pounds by at least thirty pounds. However, Jeff was solid muscles and in top shape, while the other one could have been a model for the Pillsbury Doughboy.
The second guard was a different story. He matched Jeff in height and physique. He had been silently watching, almost as if amused by the exchange between Jeff and his buddy.
Jeff decided to take him out first.
“You know, I don’t have the time to argue with you two clowns,” he said and, with a sudden movement, he kicked sideways, smashing his heel into the guard’s solar plexus to send him sprawling. Then he twisted around and with his fist, he hit the fat guy in the belly.
Unprepared for the attack his opponent let out a surprised grunt and folded forward. Jeff brought the edge of his right hand down, hitting the fat neck with great force.
The big man hit the ground like a sack of flour. Jeff stepped over him and opened the door.
There were two people in the room. A man and a woman. The woman sat on the desk, the top of her dress down to expose her breasts. Behind the desk, sat a short, fat and completely bald man. One of his hands covered the woman’s right breast.
The man looked up when Jeff walked in. “Who the hell are you?” he rasped. “And how did you get past my men?”
“They’ve decided to take a little nap.” Jeff grinned. “They must have been tired of their job. My name is Jeff Chartrand. Does the name Chartrand ring a bell?”
Galliano removed his hand from the woman’s breast. She slipped off the desk and pulled up her dress. “Leave us alone,” Galliano told her. “Tell Alfonso and Tony to move their asses in here.” Then he looked at Jeff out of black eyes hidden between folds of flesh. “What was your name again?”
“Don’t pretend you didn’t hear me the first time, Galliano,” Jeff said calmly, keeping an eye on the fat man’s right hand.
“It’s Mr. Galliano to you. Now…what the fuck is so important that you have to bust into my office unannounced?”
“It’s about my brother, Michael Chartrand. I believe you and he had business dealings.”
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