Writer’s Corner: The Importance of “Thank You”

As most of you probably know, being an author is a very solitary profession. We spend hours on end alone with our thoughts, a notebook, or a computer, and there isn’t much that makes us happier. Being a writer isn’t just a hobby or profession—it’s a way of life. Sometimes it’s comfortable and sometimes it’s lonely, and despite all the self-doubt that comes with writing, those of us who truly love it with return to it no matter what.

However, we sometimes forget that although we may be mostly solitary creatures, our success relies on people. It relies on the people who edit our books, create our beautiful cover art, and read the stories we devoted so much of our time to. Without these people, we cannot possibly hope to see our books receive the attention that we know they deserve.

So now, I just want to take the time to thank everyone who worked on and read my books. Without all of you, I wouldn’t have made it as far as I have. As I have said many times before, I started The Prince of Prophecy series to prove a point, but I finished it because of all the support I received from my friends and fans. If you guys hadn’t been there to cheer me on, I don’t think I would have even finished book 1 (Destined). Now, I’m working on getting my third book published and I’m as passionate about my work as I’ve ever been, all because I had you guys pushing me forward even when the road got a little bumpy.

These books are going to take off because I know they’re really good (if you don’t already know this, check out the FIRST and SECOND books on amazon), and once they do take off I’m not going to forget that it took a lot of people to get there. Authors (creative people in general), never forget about the people who cheered you on and believed that you could do it, because they’re a large part of the reason that you have reached, or will reach, your goals.

Give your friends, family, and fans some love for all their support every now and then. They deserve it!

 

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Jacob and Wilhelm Grimm’s “Rapunzel”

Once upon a time there was a man and a woman who had long, but to no avail, wished for a child. Finally the woman came to believe that the good Lord would fulfill her wish. Through the small rear window of these people’s house they could see into a splendid garden that was filled with the most beautiful flowers and herbs. The garden was surrounded by a high wall, and no one dared enter, because it belonged to a sorceress who possessed great power and was feared by everyone.

One day the woman was standing at this window, and she saw a bed planted with the most beautiful rapunzel. It looked so fresh and green that she longed for some. It was her greatest desire to eat some of the rapunzel. This desire increased with every day, and not knowing how to get any, she became miserably ill.

Her husband was frightened, and asked her, “What ails you, dear wife?”

“Oh,” she answered, “if I do not get some rapunzel from the garden behind our house, I shall die.”

The man, who loved her dearly, thought, “Before you let your wife die, you must get her some of the rapunzel, whatever the cost.”

So just as it was getting dark he climbed over the high wall into the sorceress’s garden, hastily dug up a handful of rapunzel, and took it to his wife. She immediately made a salad from it, which she devoured eagerly. It tasted so very good to her that by the next day her desire for more had grown threefold. If she were to have any peace, the man would have to climb into the garden once again. Thus he set forth once again just as it was getting dark. But no sooner than he had climbed over the wall than, to his horror, he saw the sorceress standing there before him.

“How can you dare,” she asked with an angry look, “to climb into my garden and like a thief to steal my rapunzel? You will pay for this.”

“Oh,” he answered, “Let mercy overrule justice. I came to do this out of necessity. My wife saw your rapunzel from our window, and such a longing came over her, that she would die, if she did not get some to eat.”

The sorceress’s anger abated somewhat, and she said, “If things are as you say, I will allow you to take as much rapunzel as you want. But under one condition: You must give me the child that your wife will bring to the world. It will do well, and I will take care of it like a mother.”

In his fear the man agreed to everything.

When the woman gave birth, the sorceress appeared, named the little girl Rapunzel, and took her away. Rapunzel became the most beautiful child under the sun. When she was twelve years old, the fairy locked her in a tower that stood in a forest and that had neither a door nor a stairway, but only a tiny little window at the very top.

When the sorceress wanted to enter, she stood below and called out:

Rapunzel, Rapunzel, Let down your hair to me.

Rapunzel had splendid long hair, as fine as spun gold. When she heard the sorceress’s voice, she untied her braids, wound them around a window hook, let her hair fall twenty yards to the ground, and the sorceress climbed up it.

A few years later it happened that a king’s son was riding through the forest. As he approached the tower he heard a song so beautiful that he stopped to listen. It was Rapunzel, who was passing the time by singing with her sweet voice. The prince wanted to climb up to her, and looked for a door in the tower, but none was to be found.

He rode home, but the song had so touched his heart that he returned to the forest every day and listened to it. One time, as he was thus standing behind a tree, he saw the sorceress approach, and heard her say:

Rapunzel, Rapunzel, Let down your hair.

Then Rapunzel let down her strands of hair, and the sorceress climbed up them to her.

“If that is the ladder into the tower, then sometime I will try my luck.”

And the next day, just as it was beginning to get dark, he went to the tower and called out:

Rapunzel, Rapunzel, Let down your hair.

The hair fell down, and the prince climbed up.

At first Rapunzel was terribly frightened when a man such as she had never seen before came in to her. However, the prince began talking to her in a very friendly manner, telling her that his heart had been so touched by her singing that he could have no peace until he had seen her in person. Then Rapunzel lost her fear, and when he asked her if she would take him as her husband, she thought, “He would rather have me than would old Frau Gothel.” She said yes and placed her hand into his.

She said, “I would go with you gladly, but I do not know how to get down. Every time that you come, bring a strand of silk, from which I will weave a ladder. When it is finished I will climb down, and you can take me away on your horse.” They arranged that he would come to her every evening, for the old woman came by day.

The sorceress did not notice what was happening until one day Rapunzel said to her, “Frau Gothel, tell me why it is that you are more difficult to pull up than is the young prince, who will be arriving any moment now?”

“You godless child,” cried the sorceress. “What am I hearing from you? I thought I had removed you from the whole world, but you have deceived me nonetheless.”

In her anger she grabbed Rapunzel’s beautiful hair, wrapped it a few times around her left hand, grasped a pair of scissors with her right hand, and snip snap, cut it off. And she was so unmerciful that she took Rapunzel into a wilderness where she suffered greatly.

On the evening of the same day that she sent Rapunzel away, the fairy tied the cut-off hair to the hook at the top of the tower, and when the prince called out:

Rapunzel, Rapunzel, Let down your hair.

she let down the hair.

The prince climbed up, but above, instead of his beloved Rapunzel, he found the sorceress, who peered at him with poisonous and evil looks.

“Aha!” she cried scornfully. “You have come for your Mistress Darling, but that beautiful bird is no longer sitting in her nest, nor is she singing any more. The cat got her, and will scratch your eyes out as well. You have lost Rapunzel. You will never see her again.”

The prince was overcome with grief, and in his despair he threw himself from the tower. He escaped with his life, but the thorns into which he fell poked out his eyes. Blind, he wandered about in the forest, eating nothing but grass and roots, and doing nothing but weeping and wailing over the loss of his beloved wife. Thus he wandered about miserably for some years, finally happening into the wilderness where Rapunzel lived miserably with the twins that she had given birth to.

He heard a voice and thought it was familiar. He advanced toward it, and as he approached, Rapunzel recognized him, and crying, threw her arms around his neck. Two of her tears fell into his eyes, and they became clear once again, and he could see as well as before. He led her into his kingdom, where he was received with joy, and for a long time they lived happily and satisfied.

 

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Writer’s Corner: “The Clearing” Book Review

*****

The Clearing by Samantha Cook: 5 out of 5 Stars 

The Clearing by Samantha Cook is a suspenseful post-apocalyptic novel about a teenage girl named Ruby. Ruby desperately wants to see what lies beyond her tiny village of 300 people, but no one is allowed outside—unless of course you’re Sentenced. Sentenced people are forced to leave the village and venture out into an unknown world filled with “soulless”—otherwise known as zombies. Every Sentenced person has willingly run from the clearing and away from the only home they’ve ever know and Ruby doesn’t understand why. I mean, running into a forest filled with the undead is almost certain death, right? After Ruby gets into a bit of trouble with the town’s leader, Orwin, she and her friends embark on a heart-pounding journey of survival and heartbreak as they look to answer the question: are they really the last people on earth?

This book was very well written—I would expect no less from a professional editor—and held my interest from beginning to end. Ruby is a very interesting character, and although it took me a while to warm up to her, I ended up rooting for her in the end. The people who accompany her on her journey (her older brother, her boyfriend—for lack of a better word—her best friend, and the guy who’s got a crush on her best friend) are all wonderful characters who each bring something unique to the group. Although the story was, at times, difficult to read–as my poor heart can only take so much at a time–this post-apocalyptic novel did what it was supposed to: it kept me on the edge of my seat pretty much the entire way through.

The plot moved quickly, and there didn’t seem to be one unnecessary scene in the entire novel. Though I would have liked to get to know Ruby’s companions a little better, I got a general overview of who they were and what they stood for from the way they interacted with the main character. Overall I think all of the characters grew into better versions of themselves by the end of the story, most especially Ruby. The character development didn’t bog down the story with tons of insignificant details—like some stories tend to do—and everything progressed at a natural pace.

For those of you who like quick, suspenseful reads with twist endings, The Clearing will definitely be the book for you. I say “will” because Samantha is looking to have her amazing book professionally published right now, so, unfortunately, you won’t see it on the shelves of your local bookstore for a while. However, until then, you can visit Samantha’s blog, Scookie Reviews, and check out her writing advice and novel reviews.

 

For new fairy tale, Prince of Prophecy, and Writer’s Corner updates every Wednesday and Saturday, follow this blog!

Here’s chapter 2 of that book I haven’t named yet!

I’ve gotten pretty good reception for this new series so I decided to post chapter 2! Click the following links if you haven’t read the prologue and chapter 1. I think I’m going to post up to chapter 5, but we’ll see how things go. This book moves pretty quickly, so if you’re into fast paced sci-fi novels with plot twists, this book’s for you! This is just a lightly edited rough draft so there probably will be typos, and I apologize for that. Anyway, I hope you enjoy the new chapter!

 

Chapter 2

Shut Down

 

“You disobeyed me, again,” Noire said, pacing in front of Kira and Artemis. Kira could tell that he was doing his best to keep his voice even, but his anger was apparent in his rigid body, knitted brows and clenched jaw. “I told you specifically not to steal from Tora Corp again.”

Artemis sheepishly raised his hand. “Uh, ‘scuse me, but you said that we ‘shouldn’t’ try to steal from them, not that we ‘couldn’t’. I thought it was just, you know, a suggestion—which I considered long and hard, I really did! But, ultimately, we decided—”

“He decided,” Kira grumbled, glaring daggers at Artemis.

Artemis raised his palms defensively. “I decided that we should go for it. I mean, that photon gun could have made us a lot of money, Noire!”

“That photon gun nearly got you two killed!” Noire roared, his voice echoing throughout the machine filled bunker.

Kira lifted her chin up, but kept her gaze lowered to the ground. “Noire, sir, I just want to say that, Artemis told me that you weren’t comfortable with the idea, but you weren’t against it. He lured me into this scheme of his under false pretense.”

Artemis scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest. “Way to throw me under the hovercraft, K…”

Kira ignored him and continued on. “Had I known that you forbade the heist, I would have never gone.”

Noire paused in his pacing, his yellowish eyes zeroing in on Kira. “And you. You may not have been responsible for this scheme gone awry, but you still went along without consulting me first. You knew that I told you Tora Corp and its subsidiaries were off limits—I’d spoken to you both on the matter on many occasions.” He took a few slow, intimidating steps towards her. “You need to start taking responsibility for your own actions and stop blaming Artemis every time the two of you get into trouble. You’re an adult, you can think for yourself—that’s more than I can say for those chipped imbeciles living up on the surface.” Kira bowed her head and Noire returned to pacing. “I took you in so you could have a better life—a free life. Now, instead of playing things safe and attempting jobs that suit your skill levels, you’re throwing yourselves into dangerous situations and putting that freedom that I envision for you in jeopardy.”

When Artemis and Kira said nothing in response, Noire sighed and shut his eyes. “What’s rule number five of the code?”

Kira raised her head, clasping her hands behind her back. “The media is a thief’s worst enemy and should be avoided at all costs.”

Noire nodded. “Very good, Kira.”

“Yeah!” Artemis grinned tentatively. “That’s what I was just gonna say!”

Noire cast Artemis a stern look which wiped the smile right off his face. The master thief smoothed back his jet black hair before saying, “Archimedes, show me the news.” A moment later, a fuzzy hologram projection of the same busty newswoman from earlier was projected beside him along with a clip from their botched heist from earlier. The anchorwoman’s lips were moving, but there was no sound emitting from the projection. Kira didn’t need to hear what she was saying to know what Noire’s point was.

“Look, Noire, I know you’re angry, but no one saw our faces—they didn’t even bother to take off our masks! We’re fine,” Artemis insisted. “Who cares if we’re in the media! They don’t know who we are.”

“Yet,” Noire bit back. “You’re reckless, Artemis—you always have been. If you keep ‘winging it’ as you say, you’re going to find yourself in a more dire situation than just behind some hackable plasma bars. The police may tolerate your antics now, but they’ll tire of your nonsense soon enough. The next time you’re caught maybe they’ll just send you straight to the prison ship orbiting mars. Is that what you want?”

Artemis cringed. “Not really, no…”

Noire stared at Artemis long and hard before speaking again. “That’s enough for now, Archimedes. End projection.” The news scene disappeared and Noire approached the two. “We’re thieves. We are meant to be invisible.”

Artemis pursed his lips in a childish fashion. “But did you see how good I looked up there? This body wasn’t made to be invisible.”

Kira groaned. “Shut up.”

“I think I should have our tailor droid make me a tighter suit to show off my abs and glutes a little more…” Artemis murmured, thoughtfully tapping his finger on his chin.

“Oh, yeah! I’m sure the ladies are going to be really impressed watching Figment drag your ‘glutes and abs’ back to jail,” Kira said with a roll of her light brown eyes. “Spare us your narcissism, Artemis. You don’t need a tighter suit—what you need is some self-control. You’re too impulsive and that’s almost gotten us killed more than a few times.”

“Oh, really?” Artemis said, his grin sickeningly sweet. “And your ‘shoot first ask questions later’ attitude hasn’t? I can’t even count how many times that you’ve pulled the trigger and ruined our cover because of your damn paranoia!”

“At least I know how to restore my cover after I’ve blown it,” Kira snarled, her hands settling on the guns at her hips. “You just prance out into the open and expect me clean up the messes you make.”

“If you could disable a friggin’ alarm properly, I wouldn’t need to ‘prance out’ anywhere,” Artemis said, his hands balling into fists.

That was it—the last straw. No one insulted her hacking skills. She snatched her ray guns out of their holsters and shot at Artemis. He dodged the stun charges and launched a spinning kick at her. She ducked beneath his leg, rolled behind him, shoving the barrels of her guns into his lower back. He spun around and grabbed her wrists before she could get a shot off. She elbowed him in the face, and punched his wounded shoulder.

However, before their fight could progress any further, Noire grabbed both of their arms and twisted them behind their backs. “That’s enough,” he hissed. “You want to be treated like adults, yet you act like petulant children. You both need to learn self-control. Your tempers will only get you into trouble. Artemis, what’s rule number twenty-one of the code?”

Artemis grimaced, his wounded shoulder bleeding profusely now. “I-It’s something about not letting our emotions rule us or some junk like that—I dunno! Would you let me go, already? You’re killing my arm!”

Noire held them there for a moment longer before finally releasing them. “That’s close enough. You mustn’t let your emotions overrule your mind. Everything you do, do with a cool head and a calm heart or you will fail—like now. If you’re going to kill each other, perhaps you shouldn’t do it in the presence of someone who will try to stop you.”

Kira took a deep breath and reluctantly holstered her guns, while Artemis groaned and grabbed his bleeding shoulder. Noire’s feature’s softened as his gaze settled upon Artemis. “Go lay down. I’ll scrounge up some micro bots to stitch up your arm.”

Artemis nodded, casting one last glare at Kira before shuffling down a large aisle of machines toward his room—if one could even call it that. Noire had fashioned walls out of old boxy machines that no longer worked. Two of these make-shift rooms Kira and Artemis inhabited. They were cramped and drafty, but they granted them enough privacy not to complain about it.

Kira felt Noire’s eyes burning a hole into the side of her head and she reluctantly turned to face him. “He deserved it,” she said lowly.

“He was already hurt,” Noire said, his voice softer now. “We don’t kick people while they’re already down.”

“You don’t kick people while they’re already down,” Kira said. “Sometimes, playing dirty is the only way people like me can win. I’m not the martial artist he is.”

“You have other talents. If you would just stop and think for a moment instead of letting your temper get the best of you, you could easily outwit your opponents,” Noire said, clasping his hands behind his back. “For someone as boundlessly intelligent as you are, you can’t figure out how to use that mind of yours to your advantage. Until you do, you’re going to keep losing. No, you’re not a martial artist, but you are an expert markswoman and an excellent strategist when you actually put your mind to it. Don’t dwell on the abilities you don’t possess—focus on the things that make you unique and hone those skills.” He lowered his head and slowly shook it, shutting his eyes. “Please, Kira, stay out of trouble and see to it that Artemis does as well.”

Without waiting for a reply from her, Noire turned on his heel and left her to stand alone amidst the machines.

 

Later that night, after she had time to cool down, Kira left her room to see Artemis. She had changed out of her beaten up adaptation suit—a jumpsuit of her own creation which enhanced one’s skills and abilities when worn—and brushed her short, boyish, dark brown hair. She liked her hair short. She didn’t have to worry about it falling in her face, or getting caught on things, or getting in the way when she was working on her tech projects, Artemis often teased her for it, but she didn’t really care—it was not as if she was trying to impress anyone, anyway.

It always felt good to get out of those tight adaptation suits. It was not that they were restricting—on the contrary, Kira designed them to have a wide range of motion—she just liked lose fitting, comfy clothes much better. Although Kira could admit that her microfiber pants, baggy shirts, and tank tops were not the most practical attire for a thief, they were one of the few impracticalities she allowed herself to indulge in.

Her bare feet made soft padding sounds upon the cold, stone ground of the bunker, and her baggy pants dragged along the floor. It was a bit chilly for the tank top she was wearing, but she’d rather be ‘a little cold’ than ‘too warm’. It was for that reason, Artemis would sometimes jokingly refer to her as a reptile—an extinct species of cold-blooded animals that Noire had taught them about when they were younger. Maybe she was cold-blooded. Maybe Artemis had a little more humanity than she did. Maybe he was a better person than she was…

Kira paused outside of Artemis’s room, biting the inside of her cheek as she hesitated there for a moment. Despite her pride, she knocked upon his door. She waited but was met with no reply. She knew she should have waited until he answered, but she pressed a button on the touch pad beside the door and it opened for her.

Artemis was relaxing on his bed with a pair of earbuds in his ears and tapping his feet as he read a comic book. There was a bandage wrapped across his bare chest and most of his torso was covered in black and blue—he had gotten really hurt today. A bit of red leaked through the white bandages on his shoulder but he didn’t seem to mind. Kira glanced around his room, frowning in disapproval. It was messy, as always. Dirty clothes were strewn across the room, and smashed pieces of bots—some that she had built—were pushed into a disorganized pile in the corner. Metal bins of balled up clean clothes sat at the foot of the bed and beside the door there was a huge book case filled with thousands upon thousands of comic books that Noire had given him.

Overhead, Artemis had attached a large piece of canvas—usually used to cover the larger tech—to the top of the old machines that made up the walls of his room to create a sort of ceiling. On the canvas he’d hung old sheets of glossy paper with graphics on them—she recalled Noire saying they were ‘posters’. She recognized some of the names on the posters as rock bands from over a thousand years ago. Rock was all Artemis listened to. She couldn’t stand it.

Even though Artemis had his earbuds in today, listening to a thousand year old piece of music-tech—which she had restored—he had the volume up so loud that Kira could hear the lyrics to song he was listening to. She sighed softly and made her way of to his bed, taking a seat on the edge of it.

Artemis raised his comic book to look at her. He groaned, set aside the comic book, yanked out his earbuds, and sat up. “Come here to finish the job you started earlier?”

Kira shook her head. “I … I just came to make sure you’re not dead. Noire would be upset at me if anything happened to you.”

Artemis ran a hand through his hair and smiled wryly. “Well, as you can see, I’m not dead yet, so you can go if you want.”

She shut her eyes and took a deep breath through her nose. This was much more difficult than she anticipated it would be. “Are you okay?”

“Despite my bruises having bruises, yeah, I’m fantastic,” Artemis said, sarcasm dripping from his every word. “You dislocated my shoulder. Noire had to pop it back into place—it was super fun. Tickled a little.”

Kira’s fingers curled into the material of her pants. “I’m … I’m sorry…” she murmured.

“What was that? I couldn’t quite hear you?” Artemis said, leaning in towards her, his moss–green eyes twinkling with amusement.

She gritted her teeth. “Maybe if you’d turn down that crap you always listen to, you’d be able to hear me.”

He chuckled and clawed over to her, laying his head on her leg. “Come on, K. Don’t be mean. I just want you to say it a little louder.” He rubbed the back of his head against her thigh. “You’re getting kind of squishy, K! I like it—you keep eating those dessert tablets and you’re gonna make a great pillow for me!”

“Get. Off. Me,” she snarled, jerking her leg up.

He grimaced at the sudden action and sat up. “Jeez… Ya think you’d be a bit gentler with a guy who was just shot.”

Kira straightened up, exhaled, and tried again. “I’m going to say it again, so listen up—I’m not repeating myself a third time. I’m sorry. I knew you were hurt and I took advantage of that, so I’m sorry, Artemis.”

He grinned. “That was really hard for you, wasn’t it? I bet your wittle pride is hurting more than my shoulder.”

Kira punched him in the injured arm, and he yelped out in pain. She couldn’t help but smirk. “Now it’s not.”

“Ow.” Artemis said, pouting his lips. “This is why you’re never gonna have a boyfriend.”

“I don’t want a boyfriend.”

“This is why you’re never gonna have a girlfriend, then.”

Instead of retorting, Kira punched him in the arm again. “Keep it up. This is a great stress reliever for me.”

“Damn that smarts,” Artemis said through gritted teeth, grasping his wounded shoulder. All was silent between them for a long moment until he said, “I’m sorry too, Kira. I screwed things up today—it’s my fault, I know that. Noire’s right, I gotta start thinking before I act. It’s just, when I’m in the moment, I kind of get lost in the excitement, you know?”

“I guess we both have things we need to work on,” Kira said quietly. She finally lifted her head, looking up at Artemis. “Are you still going to ask Noire about the Tora Space Station heist?”

“You bet your ass I am,” Artemis said, his grin becoming mischievous. “It’s gonna be a little harder to get him to agree after the verbal bashing we got from him today, I think we can still convince him to let us go.”

“Let you go where?” said the Noire’s smooth voice of from behind them.

Kira and Artemis swiveled their heads around to see Noire—still dressed in his neatly pressed black suit—leaning casually up against the doorway. Artemis’s grin faded into a grimace. “How does he always sneak up on us like that?”

“He’s a master thief, idiot. Sneaking is kind of his thing,” Kira said with a roll of her eyes. “Well, Artemis, now is as good a time as any to ask him.”

“Ask me what?” Noire asked, his eyes flickering between the two.

Artemis pasted on a broad smile, but Kira could tell by the way the corners of his lips quivered that it was all for show. “So, you know how you said we should start acting like adults because, well, we are?”

Noire squinted his eyes and slightly turned his head away. “Yes…”

“Well, K and I were thinking—”

“Artemis was thinking,” Kira said quickly.

“Alright, I was thinking that the two of us can help fix this place up by going after bigger scores,” Artemis said, crossing his legs beneath him and leaning back on his hands. “I mean, what’s life without the bare necessities, right? There’s tons of stuff out there just waiting for us to steal! It wouldn’t hurt to do a few upgrades around here and make our lives a bit easier, would it? Those bulky machines out there are gonna die sooner or later—I mean they’re all over a hundred years old—so let me and Kira work some bigger jobs. Give us your permission to let us work some bigger jobs.”

Noire crossed lifted his hand up to his chin, looking a tad reluctant before saying, “What exactly did you have in mind?”

Kira eyes widened. She’d expected a little more fight from Noire.

Artemis’s smile brightened into something more genuine, his moss-green eyes full of renewed hope. “I was thinking about snatching some of that MCTA stuff. You heard of it?”

Noire’s face hardened once more, all openness dissipating in that instant. “Yes, I have. It’s on Tora Corp’s Research and Development Station up in space.”

“Yep! That’s the stuff!” Artemis said cheerfully. “So what do ya say?”

“I say ‘no’,” Noire replied without hesitance.

“Come on, Addy! You can’t just shut us down like that!”

“I can and I have,” Noire said sharply, reaching up to massage his temple. “And how many times have I asked you not to call me that?”

Artemis shrugged. “Fine. If you won’t give us your permission, we’ll—”

“You’ll,” Kira murmured.

He stared at her as if she had just slapped him in the face, before crestfallenly lowering his eyes. “I’ll go by myself without your permission. You want me to act like an adult, Noire? You’ve gotta start letting me make my own decisions and nix this ‘permission’ crap. I’m not a kid anymore and neither is Kira. We can decide what’s too dangerous for us.”

“Can you?” Noire snapped. “What you attempted today was ‘too dangerous’, but you went anyway and nearly got yourselves thrown in prison—or worse.”

Artemis stood from his bed and marched up to Noire, having to look down at him slightly—he was a few inches taller. “Look, Adair, you’re not my boss—you’re not even my legal adoptive guardian. I appreciate all you’ve done for me, I really do, but you’ve got no authority over me. I’m gonna get some of that MCTA and I’m gonna bring it back here to you so the Panther can be as awesome as he used to be—so the three of us can be a force to be reckoned with. I’m tired of hiding down here in the sewers—”

“It’s a pipeline…” Noire said, his words lacking conviction.

“No, it’s a sewer,” Artemis said through a sigh. “Give me your blessing or don’t—I’m still gonna get that MCTA stuff and I’m gonna prove to you that I can pull off a successful heist. I know I’m not as smart as Kira, but that doesn’t mean I’m stupid. I mean, I am pretty dumb, yeah, but I think I can manage to steal a couple pieces of metal from some science geeks.”

“You’re not dumb, Artemis,” Noire said, the hard edge in his voice faded. “You just—you don’t think things through.”

“I will this time,” he replied, standing up a bit straighter, soon grimacing from his wounds. “I need this chance, and if you’re not gonna give it to me then I’m taking it.”

Noire shut his eyes and bowed his head, crossing his arms over his chest. “If you go … don’t come back and don’t contact me again. At least then I can pretend that you’re alive and safe somewhere.” With those harsh words left to hang in the air, Noire brusquely left Artemis’s room.

Kira stood from the bed, standing there awkwardly, unsure of what she should do. She was terrible at comforting people, and this was serious. Artemis stood there in front of the door, unmoving. Noire’s words had hurt him. Artemis never said it, but she knew that he was constantly seeking Noire’s approval. To be told to never come back by someone who he held in the highest esteem must have been unbearably painful. Perhaps it hurt more than all of Artemis’s physical wounds combined.

She slipped her hands into her pockets and cautiously approached him. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah, Kira. I’m friggin’ fantastic,” he said in a voice that was somewhere between a murmur and a growl.

“Do you … want to talk about it?”

Artemis spun around to face her, his eyes livid. “Oh! Now you wanna talk, huh? You weren’t so chatty when I was getting chewed out by Noire. Why didn’t you back me up?”

Kira considered lying to him, but ultimately she decided to go with the truth. “I didn’t say anything because … you needed to hear that from him—well, most of it anyway.”

“And why do you think that?”

Kira ran a hand through her short, brown hair, exhaling softly. “Because, Artemis, you’re idea—it’s…”

“Stupid?” Artemis growled. “You think it’s stupid. You think we’re gonna get caught again. Well, don’t you worry, K, you don’t have to be involved in anymore of my dumb plans. You’re out. I’ll do this by myself and I’ll prove to you and Noire that I’m not the screw up you think I am.”

“I never said—”

“You should go now,” he mumbled, brushing past her in a way that made her feel as if she’d just been punched in the gut. “I’ve got a lot of planning to do.”

Kira’s lips pressed into a thin white line. He doesn’t want my help? Fine. I didn’t want to do this anyway, she thought before storming out of his room.

 

For new fairy tale, Prince of Prophecy, and Writer’s Corner updates every Wednesday and Saturday, follow this blog!

Happy Valentine’s Day!!!!

Here are some Prince of Prophecy Valentine’s Day cards that I made for the fun of it.

From Left to Right we have Nicholas, Destan, Scarlet, Christof, and Klara!

I hope you all have a happy Valentine’s Day no matter your relationship status! ❤

For new fairy tale, Prince of Prophecy, and Writer’s Corner updates every Wednesday and Saturday, follow this blog!

Remember that thing I didn’t have a name for? Well, here’s chapter 1!

The following is the first chapter of that new book I mentioned I was writing a couple weeks back (if you haven’t read the prologue yet, CLICK HERE). So, after a lot of thinking about it … I still have no idea what I’m going to name this book or even the series. It’s really hard naming books! Besides that, I’ve only written four and a half chapters (I’m working on chapter 5 right now, actually). I’ve been dragging my feet a little with this project because I’ve never attempted science fiction before and it require a lot of research and ingenuity.

Also, I’ve started up a YouTube channel which I’ll be using for a couple different things. The first reason is to showcase my books on a different platform. I’ll be making videos about my books, doing interviews with authors and illustrators, and also posting video book reviews! The secondary uses for the new channel include ASMR videos (click here if you don’t know what asmr is), hopefully some video game play-throughs (but that’s probably going to have to wait until I get a more powerful computer), and just regular video blogs. I’ve already got one ASMR video posted and I plan to upload a video about my books in the near future. If any of this sounds interesting to you, visit my YouTube channel and subscribe! I’d really appreciate your support!

Okay, now that my little update’s over here is the first chapter of that book I haven’t named yet! Yaaaay!

 

NOTE: This ‘first-draft’ chapter contains some strong language and violence

 

Chapter 1

Super Problems

 

“Yo, K, you got those alarms disabled yet?” Artemis asked, pulling his mask over his unruly, chestnut-brown hair. He looked down into the large prototype room directly beneath the ten by ten crawlspace they were perched inside. “We’ve only got ten minutes before the guards make their rounds again.”

Kira could not help but scowl, continuing to type in numbers on her hologram watch keyboard—a clever invention of her own design. “I know how long we’ve got, Artemis. I was the one who did the reconnaissance, remember?” She paused her work and looked back at him, giving him a dull look. “Why are we here? Noire didn’t even want to bother with this, so why are we? Tora Corp has done a lot of upgrades to their security system since the last time we were here, and even then we couldn’t make a clean escape. Once I disable the alarms, laser grids, heat sensors, motion detectors, and chip scanners you’ll have five minutes at the most. Five minutes. I could have given you more time if I had better equipment, but—”

“I’ll be fine!” Artemis said, flashing her a toothy grin before pulling his mask down over the rest of his face so that only his moss-green eyes were visible. “Five minutes is plenty of time. You worry way too much, K. Just relax, will you? You’re gonna give yourself an ulcer.”

“You know that’s impossible,” Kira said, returning her attention to her work. “Most of the human race is impervious to those sort of ailments now.”

Artemis sighed and reached down to touch his toes, doing a few warm up stretches. “You know what I mean, smartass.”

Kira shrugged. “You don’t worry at all, so I have to worry for the both of us,” she replied simply, having to squint her eyes—they had not yet adjusted to the darkness of the ventilation shafts. “Given that, I blame my anxiety entirely on you. You’re the one who dragged me into this after all.”

Artemis paused in securing his tether to his belt. “Hey—”

“Done,” Kira said, smirking to herself. “Security systems are down—that is, all the systems my holowatch was able to detect. So be careful, alright? It’s possible that Tora installed some undetectable security measures. Just get the photon gun and get out—don’t dawdle.”

“Dawdle?” Artemis asked, tilting his head to the side. “You just made that word up, didn’t you?”

Kira’s face became cold and stern as it usually did when she was working. “Four minutes fifty seconds and counting. Move it.”

Artemis chuckled and tugged on the black rope attacked to his belt harness. “You’re so adorable when you’re all bossy. I just wanna pinch your wittle cheeks!”

Kira gritted her teeth, tempted to kick him down into the room below. “Move. It.”

“Yes, sir!” He saluted to her in a cocky manner before lithely diving down into the room, making absolutely no sound in the process—much to Kira’s relief. As she watched him repel down into the domed, sterile-white room, she couldn’t help but wonder what Artemis was trying to prove? Noire already respected his talents—and hers for that matter. In her opinion it had been a foolish idea to pursue a piece of technology that not even the master thief himself—Adair Noire, otherwise known as The Panther by the global media—had attempted to steal.

Noire’s technology was outdated despite the fact that Kira had tried modernize his old gadgets to the best of her abilities. Noire was still the best thief in the world, having stolen countless precious items from greedy men who were undeserving of their riches. These items ranged from banned artifacts, to marvels of modern science. Many of the banned artifacts that Noire stole, he kept and archived so that the people he took in—people like Kira and Artemis—would know how the world used to be before the age of the four empires. Kira had taken an interest in the history books and old technologies that her adopted father had collected, while Artemis gravitated more towards the comic books and music—that sounded like noise to Kira—from nearly one thousand years prior. The items that Noire collected from the past were priceless and precious—more so now that they had been banned by the four emperors of the world.

The three struggled to get by and to keep Noire’s archaic machines and gadgets running smoothly. But now, even with Kira’s gift with all things mechanical, modern technology had advanced too far. Kira couldn’t keep up with the world’s advances despite her cleverness—she needed new parts, new holodrives … new technology. She knew that Noire would never purchase anything from the empire—he didn’t even use the things he stole from them. He was prideful and obstinate, and Kira was afraid that would be his downfall. Noire was a wanted man, and with technology progressing so rapidly, it would not be long before the empire discover the elusive ‘Panther’s’ base of operations.

The photon gun they were attempting to acquire now would not help them much in the way of updating their century old machinery, but if they found the right buyer for the weapon, they could make a hefty sum. With that money, they could buy many of the parts they needed from black market tech-dealers to upgrade their security.

In short, Kira, Artemis, and Noire—though the latter would never admit it aloud—needed this score. The Panther’s base was the only home Kira had ever known, and she would do anything to make sure that it wasn’t compromised—even agree to this stupid plan of Artemis’s design.

She felt her heart quicken in pace as she checked her holowatch—only two minutes and thirteen seconds remained before the building AI would break through her firewall and reboot the prototype room security features that she’d disabled. Despite her internal panic, she smiled. It’s a good thing Tora hasn’t updated their building’s AI yet—I know the empire owned buildings’ new AIs can detect intruder firewalls within five seconds of initiation—not much time to pull off a heist like this, she thought as she watched Artemis pull a dimension ray—a slender metal tool with a few black buttons and a touch screen on the handle—from his belt.

With the ray he outlined a circle in the glass case he was hanging above and selected a dimension preference from the touch screen, just as she had instructed him. The circle of glass he’d outlined with the ray vanished into thin air, and Artemis pressed a button on his belt, lowering him down into the glass case where the Photon Gun was.

Kira was a little sad they would have to sell a masterpiece like that. There were plenty of photon weapons available on the market, but this one put them all to shame. Tora Corp had managed to harness the power of a full-sized photon cannon—which was very large and required someone much bigger than she to operate—in a weapon the size of plasma handgun. That little weapon could really pack a big punch, and, being a gun enthusiast, she couldn’t say she wasn’t tempted to keep it for herself. But, as much as she wanted that gun, she wanted much more to keep her home and her family safe from the empire’s crushing grip. She would sell it. She had to sell it.

Artemis snatched the photon gun from its stand and held it up for Kira to see. Before she had any time to celebrate, her holowatch’s projection screen popped up, flashing red. One of the silent alarms had been tripped. Her expression hardened as she tapped on the communicator in her ear. “Damn it, Artemis, I told you to be careful! One of the alarms tripped. Get back up here now. The guards are coming.”

“What’d I do?” Artemis’s voice sounded in her ear. “You said the security systems were down!”

“I said all the security features that my holowatch could detect were down,” Kira hissed. “Now get out of th—”

“Shit. They’re here,” Artemis grumbled.

Artemis laid down on her stomach and removed her ray guns from their holsters pointing them down into the prototype room where the guards had just entered. There were at least ten of them dressed in white and black Tora Corp uniforms. These weren’t just regular security guards either—they were as well trained and as well armed as military soldiers. They already had their guns out as they crept through the aisles of glass cases containing Tora Corp’s more pricey inventions. If Artemis were to repel back up to the ceiling now, he would surely be spotted.

“Get out of the case and hide,” Kira said, training her guns on the guards, but unable to get a clear shot yet.

“Are you gonna shoot them?” Artemis asked.

“That was the plan, yes,” Kira said lowly, placing her fingers on the triggers as Artemis climbed out of the case and rolled behind another. “If you’ve got a better idea, I’m open to suggestions.”

“I think I’ve got something,” he whispered into his com, she could hear the grin in his voice—that was never a good sign.

“Artemis, whatever you’re thinking, don’t do it until we’ve talked—”

Artemis ran out from his hiding spot, punched one of the guards in his throat and disarmed him in two swift movements. He flipped out of the path of a ray gun blast and swept his leg beneath another one of the guards, knocking him out with a punch to the face for good measure.

“Use the gun!” Kira said.

“I don’t know how!” Artemis replied, flipping over a guard only to jab his fingers into the small of the guard’s back. The guard fell to his knees unable to move, and Artemis continued on to the next guard. “Besides, I don’t like guns.”

“All you have to do is pull the damn trigger, it’s not that difficult,” Kira said, closing an eye to better zero in on the guards below.

Artemis punched a guard in the gut, and, when he was doubled over, kneed him in the face. “It looks like I’m doing alright without a gun so far,” he said, pausing briefly to look up at her with what was no doubt a smug look beneath his mask.

In that split second that Artemis wasn’t paying attention, one of the guards pulled the trigger of their gun. The ray shot through Artemis’s arm and he cried out in pain, gripping his bleeding wound.

As the guards advanced on him, Kira clenched her jaw. She couldn’t get a clear shot from above, thanks to all the glass cases. She sighed, pulled her mask down over her face and grabbed onto the rope. “I guess it can’t be helped…” she murmured before repelling down the rope, gunning down guards as she descended.

By the time she reached the ground, all the guards were lying unconscious on the floor of the prototype room, bleeding from the minor wounds she’d gifted them with. “I guess those knock-out charges worked after all,” she mused to herself, twirling her guns back into their holsters.

Artemis grasped his arm, his eyes—the only features not covered by his mask—squinted in an odd combination of both pain and amusement. “Nice shootin’, Tex.”

Kira refrained from rolling her eyes and helped him to his feet. “You’ve got to be more careful. You’re going to get yourself killed if you keep acting so impulsively.”

“But that’s what I’ve got you for, right? To save my ass when I do stupid things,” Artemis said, nudging her playfully.

Kira pushed him away from her. “I’m not going to be around forever. You can’t rely on me to help you out every time you make an idiotic call. Now, come on. We’ve got the photon gun, so let’s get out of here before more guards—”

The shrill sound of an alarm cut Kira off mid sentence. Artemis scratched the back of his head. “Sounds like our five minutes are up, ‘ey, K?”

“Section P-1: intruder alert. Threats unidentified—missing data chips. Section P-1: intruder alert. Threats unidentified—missing data chips,” the smooth female voice of Tora Corp’s building AI echoed throughout the room. Plated steel slammed down over the windows and doors, and were soon sealed with laser barriers.

“Can’t we use the dimension ray to blow this joint?” Artemis asked.

“No. The dimension ray only works on inorganic matter,” Kira said, suddenly very sorry she had given it that limitation.

“Can’t we use it to cut through the walls or something?”

“The ray can’t cut through anything thicker than two feet—the floor, walls, and ceiling in all the prototype rooms are eight feet thick.”

“What about the ventilation shafts?”

“We can give it a try, but the AI has already locked onto our heat signatures,” She murmured typing a few things into her holowatch. “I can cool us down to make it a bit harder for the AI to find us, but, even still, getting out of here won’t be easy.”

Artemis groaned, his shoulders slumping forward. “When is it ever easy? Man do I hate AI tech…”

Kira grabbed the rope that hung from the vent and handed it to Artemis. “Are you going to be alright to climb?”

“Oh, yeah!” he said, taking hold of the rope despite his wounded arm. “I’ve scaled skyscrapers in worse condition than this.”

As he began his ascent, Kira’s dark blue eyes darted anxiously around the room. The AI had gone quiet and no guards had come to apprehend them yet. Something wasn’t right. Not only that, but the ventilation shaft they’d come through wasn’t blocked off like the other exits. Tora’s AI system might have been a year or two outdated, but it still should have known to block off every avenue of escape—the vents included. That was basic programming for every building AI system for over three hundred years.

Just then, the tempered glass ceiling of the prototype room shattered, thick glass shards raining down upon them. Kira shielded her eyes and dove out of the path of a piece of metal framing before it could crush her. A muscular man in a dark blue and black armored suit fell through the ceiling, grabbing Artemis on the way down and slamming him into the ground with such force, Kira was sure that her partner had broken a few bones.

The man in the suit stood up straight, brushing his dark blonde hair out of his masked face. “How many times must I catch you two-bit thieves before you learn your lesson?” he asked, his accent was silky, but his tone was condescending—not that she expected any less from him.

“Not this Douchebag again…” Artemis groaned, trying—unsuccessfully—to get to his feet. “Don’t you have some tights to try on or something?”

“I have an appointment after I’m finished here with you, actually,” the man said, flashing a charming smile.

Kira pulled out her guns aiming them at the masked man. “No way. You’re not going to bring us in this time, Figment.”

Figment chuckled, striding over to her and kicking the photon gun out of Artemis’s reach in the process. “As if your guns have ever stopped me before.”

“I’ve got brand new charges, freak,” Kira said through gritted teeth. “I’ve been dying to test them on you so, by all means, keep coming towards me.” Her eyes flickered to Artemis then to the photon gun.  Artemis, seemingly taking the hint, nodded and crept toward the weapon while Figment’s back was turned.

Figment sighed, crossing his bulky arms over his muscular chest. “We both know how this scenario is going play out. You’re going to shoot me, I’m going to dodge it, then I’ll apprehend both of you, and drop you off at the police station. Come now, you two! We’ve done this dance enough by now for you to know the steps.”

Artemis grabbed the photon gun and aimed it at Figment. He pulled the trigger, but the beam missed him by a good five feet. Artemis laughed nervously as Kira and Figment stared at him, both looking completely disenchanted. “Oops?”

Kira breathed in deeply through her nose. “How could you miss him? He’s literally two feet away from you!”

Artemis shrugged. “I must have forgot to take wind resistance into account…”

“We’re inside a building—there is no ‘wind resistance’!” Kira shouted. Her shrewd gaze returned to Figment, her grip tightening on the handles of her plasma guns. “Screw this. I’m taking you down, freakshow.”

She fired off several rounds in succession, her aim deadly accurate—if only her charges were meant to kill. Unfortunately, Figment dodged each and every beam fired at him with inhuman speed. He charged her, grabbed the guns from her hands—though she fought vigorously with him for a couple seconds—and threw her into a nearby casing, shattering the glass upon contact.

Dizzy and disoriented, Kira felt herself being picked up and carelessly thrown over Figment’s shoulder like she was a rag doll. She heard the laser cuffs buzz to life as Figment restrained Artemis and stuck him beneath his other arm. She looked down at her companion, her expression tightening. Kira could tell that Artemis was trying to smile at her from beneath his mask.

“Come on, K, don’t give me that look,” he said weakly. “It could be worse.”

“He’s right, you know,” Figment said. “I could have easily killed you. It’s lucky for you I have a ‘no killing’ policy, isn’t it?”

Kira refused to say anything more, as Figment carried them out of the prototype room, whistling an annoyingly upbeat tune as he strode to deliver them to their jail cells.

 

***************

 

The Imperial City police precinct wasn’t as bustling as it used to be. Ever since The Figment showed up two years ago, there weren’t many stupid enough to attempt to commit crimes in Imperial City—the capital of the Northwestern Empire’s America division. Artemis and Kira were stripped of most of their weapons and gadgets and thrown into a drunk tank upon their arrival at the police building. Thankfully, no one bothered with their masks or Kira’s holowatch.

Now she and Artemis sat on a cold metal bench between an old man murmuring about the price of food tablets, and scruffy looking man who appeared as if he was trying very hard to keep himself from vomiting.

Kira leaned forward, hanging her head. “We can’t keep doing this, Artemis.”

“It’s kind of all we know how to do, K,” Artemis replied, gingerly dabbing at his wounded arm with an antibacterial pad one of the policewomen had given him.

“Well, maybe we should learn how to do something else,” she said bitterly. “Maybe we should get real jobs.”

“Then we’d have to get data chips, and somehow get our birth files, and follow the empires rules—”

“Things are changing,” she said, looking back at him. “The empire isn’t what is used to be. Ever since Emperor Braith died, things have gotten better for everyone. People aren’t afraid any more—we don’t need to be afraid either. Look, we’re not devoted to any sort of cause rebel cause like the Timber Organization—we can go straight without damaging ties with anyone.”

“What about Noire?” Artemis asked. “If we get ‘real jobs’ we’ll just be leaving him by himself. You know he’d never agree to get chipped or get a job monitored by the empire. We’d just be … abandoning him. Sure, he’s a bit uptight, but we can’t just leave him after everything he’s done for us. He took me in and raised you from a freaking toddler, for Christ’s sake!”

“I’m twenty-one and you’re twenty-four now—we’re adults,” Kira said, hanging her head once more. “Adults go off on their own and try to make decent livings for themselves. We can’t stay with Noire forever.”

Artemis frowned. “What the hell crawled up your ass and died?”

Kira scowled, shutting her eyes tightly. “I’m just sick of getting caught. I’m sick of being afraid. I’m sick of living in a sewer.”

“Hey! It’s not a sewer, it’s a pipeline!”

“It’s a sewer, Artemis.”

“Alright, fine. It’s a sewer,” Artemis mumbled before perking up again. “But don’t you think it’s kind of cool we live down there? We’re like the teenage mutant ninja turtles, except we’re not teenagers, or giant anthropomorphic turtles, and we steal stuff instead of saving people!” he said, lifting his cuffed hands triumphantly. As Kira glowered at him, His shoulders slumped forward in defeat. “Okay, okay. So the only thing we really share with them is that we live in a sewer…”

Kira shook her head. “Are you rambling about your comic books again? This isn’t a comic book—this our lives, and we’re wasting them! We’re never going to get ahead like this.”

They both went silent as Kira discreetly flicked up her holowatch screen and began to infiltrate her laser cuff’s programing. While she was busy doing that, Artemis stood up and went to the glowing blue beams of light that contained them. He touched a bar and yelped, instantly pulling his hands away. “Feels like they amped up the juice on these containment beams. Maybe we’re finally gaining some infamy around here, ey?”

“If we were, they’d have put us in separate cells and taken my holowatch,” Kira grumbled.

“Oh. Good point,” Artemis replied, scratching his masked cheek.

Between the jail cells and the vacant police desks there was a full sized three-dimensional laser projection of the news. After a commercial about an intergalactic cruise liner, a voluptuous blonde anchorwoman was projected. “In breaking news, the mysterious hero of Imperial City known only as The Figment has once again apprehended whom this city has come to know as The Terrible Two.”

Artemis scoffed. “What a lame name—at least give us cool supervillain titles, lady!”

“We’re not villains,” Kira murmured, knowing that Artemis wouldn’t hear her.

“The unidentified duo were caught trying to steal Tora Corporation’s new photon gun prototype—an invention that, once completed, will revolutionize modern warfare,” the anchorwoman went on. “In the wrong hands, the photon gun could have devastating effects. Thankfully, our city’s defender, The Figment, was there to stop these vandals before any harm could be done. In response to the recent string of attempted robberies that Tora Corp has endured, CEO Reid Zarlok, has announced that all Tora building AI’s will be updated with The Empire’s new software within the next few days. Zarlok had a few minutes to speak with our very own Robert Esperanza, about today’s event.”

The projection flickered and the blonde anchorwoman disappeared. In her place, two men filled the projection. The first man—the reporter, Kira assumed—was stout with a full head of what anyone with half a brain could tell was synthetic implants. Across from the reporter was a tall, slender man, with a mildly-attractive face that looked to be in need of a good shave. He had shaggy, dark hair, and strange, orange-colored eyes—Kira guessed that he must have had them surgically altered. She had seen Tora Corp’s CEO many times when she passed media projections on the street, and each time she saw him he was dressed to the nines. However, his hair never looked brushed and his face was never clean shaven. He looked like a bum someone plucked off the street and stuck in fancy clothes.

“So,” the reporter began, “Mr. Zarlok—”

“We’re all friends here, Mikey. Call me Reid,” Zarlok said, taking a large bite out of a candy bar.

Esperanza laughed. “Alright, Reid, what did you think about today’s excitement?”

“I think Figment owes me a new tempered glass ceiling in my prototype room.” Reid smirked, taking another bite of his candy before going on. “Nah, I’m just messing around. In all seriousness, it wasn’t that big of a deal.”

“But your photon gun was almost stolen—that thought has to worry you a little.”

Reid waved his candy bar airily. “Not really. I mean, sure, the photon gun is a big deal and all, but the real important stuff we keep up in our research and development space station. There’s no way those small-time thieves can get to that stuff.”

Esperanza nodded. “I see. Would you care elaborating on some of the things your company is working on up there?”

Reid scratched his scruffy chin and shrugged. “Eh. What the hell—why not? We’ve been keeping these two inventions under wraps for a while, but now’s a good a time as any to share.” He stuffed the rest of his candy bar in his mouth, and pulled another one from his pocket. “So, first big thing we’re working on is a cure for that Tarlonia disease that’s going around—ya know, the one that killing everyone by eating up their insides.”

The reporter’s eyes widened. “That’s extraordinary news! Tarlonia has been the world’s leading cause of death for over five hundred years! How close is Tora Corp to a cure, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“I don’t mind at all, Mikey,” Reid replied with a cheery smile. “Last I heard from my scientists up there, we’re only a few months away from human testing. It’s going to take another year after that to start distributing, but rest assured we’re working real hard to get this cure out ASAP.”

“We’re certainly glad to hear it, Mr. Zar—uh, Reid,” Esperanza said before clearing his throat. “Now what’s this second invention you’re working on—you mentioned there were two.”

Reid chuckled good-humoredly and took a big bite out of his candy. “You don’t miss a beat, do you, Mikey? I throw you a bone and ya want ten more! Alright, alright, ya twisted my arm. This other huge project we’re working on, isn’t as earth shattering as the cure to Tarlonia, but I think it’s pretty awesome all the same,” he said, smoothing out his fine suit coat. “With all the space travel we’ve been doing and all the new inhabited planets we’ve been finding, intergalactic war is becoming a very real possibility, wouldn’t ya say?”

“I’d say so, yes.”

“Well, us at the Tora Corporation think Earth should be ready for anything—hence all the cool new weapons we’ve been inventing,” Reid said as a bit of his candy fell onto his crisp white suit—he didn’t seem to mind. “Anyway, the scientists up at our space station were messing around with metals a couple months back and managed to create what we’re calling ‘mass compressing titanium alloy’.”

The reporter placed his hands on his hips. “That sounds pretty interesting. What’s it do?”

“That’s the cool part, Mikey,” Reid said, finishing his second candy bar and immediately pulling some biscuits out of his pocket. “With some simple programing, one square foot of our MCTA can compress down to the size of a single molecule, and, when it decompresses, it’ll hold the shape of whatever you formed it into before the compression. We’re testing it on portable shelters right now, but our big plan is to make a shield out of MCTA to surround the entire world in case of an attack. The alloy is super lightweight, so we don’t have to worry about it disrupting the flow of things down here, and it’s nearly indestructible—nothing short of a couple dozen atomic bombs is going to put a dent in it.”

“Impressive,” Esperanza praised. “But how exactly does something like that function. The concept is a little farfetched even by modern technology’s standards.”

Reid bit into his biscuit and pointed the remainder of it at the reporter. “Look, it just works, alright? I don’t know the sciencey lingo to explain it to ya—hell, I’m not really sure how it works myself. I’m damn sure not a brainiac—I hire smart people to know about this stuff so I don’t have to. The point is, we’ve got some pretty cool tech headed our way, and we should all be looking forward to it.”

“Indeed we should, and I’m sure we’re all very excited to see Tora Corps new inventions for ourselves,” Esperanza said before turning to face the audience. “Well, there you have it! Reid Zarlock: unruffled and as optimistic as ever in the face of today’s shocking events. Diana, back to you in the studio.”

Artemis tilted his head to the side as the image shifted back to the busty anchorwoman. “Is it just me or is that Zarlok guy always eating?”

“It’s not just you,” Kira said. She typed a few more things into her holowatch’s projected keyboard and her red laser cuffed turned white and fell from around her wrists. “Stop ogling that reporter and come over here.”

Artemis wandered back over to her and held out his wrists without her even having to ask him too—they had done this so many times it had become routine by now. “Hey … that MCTA stuff sounds kinda cool, right?” he asked in a strangely cautious tone.

Kira pointed the white beam from her watch at Artemis’s cuffs. “I guess.”

“It might be nice to have something like that on our side,” he said, as his cuffs turned white too and fell to the ground.

Kira’s gaze flicked up to the ceiling. “Maybe, but it’s not like we can steal it. You heard what Zarlok said—it’s up on Tora Corp’s space station.” She got to her feet and passed through the light bars that were keeping them in. Artemis hurried after her.

“Think of all the things you could make out of that stuff, K!” Artemis cried, throwing his arms out wide.

“Yeah. The possibilities are endless,” she mumbled monotonously.

As they rounded a corner a couple of startled policemen tried to stop them, but Artemis easily knocked them out with a couple swift punches to the throat. “Listen to what I’m saying, Kira. We could stand a chance against Figment if we had some of that MCTA crap to mold into new gadgets—heck, we could probably even win! Think of all the tech we could steal without having to worry about that douche!”

They entered the evidence room and Kira knocked out one of the cops with one solid punch to the temple, while Artemis took down the other two—dodging a couple laser charges while he did so. Kira disabled the plasma shield into front of the counter and hopped over it. She grabbed a well-worn plastic bin labeled ‘The Terrible Two’ and set it on the counter in front of Artemis.

“Look. As long as Figment’s working in this city, we can’t,” Artemis said, grabbing his tools out of the bin and sticking them in his utility belt.

Kira stuck her com back in her ear and handed Artemis his. “So we’ll move somewhere else.”

“Yeah, sure. Like Noire’s gonna agree to that. He’s had that base for years—he’s not just going to up and leave.”

“He doesn’t have to leave,” Kira growled, growing more frustrated by the moment. She holstered her guns, hopped back over the counter, and left the evidence room. “We can leave by ourselves. We can find another city—a city without a superhero.”

Artemis laughed sarcastically. “So you’re gonna pull an ‘Elliot’, huh? You’re just going to split after everything Noire’s done for you?”

“Don’t talk to me about Elliot,” she grumbled. “I feel like I’ve heard this before…”

“Yeah? Well this ‘going off on your own’ shit is news to me,” Artemis said, jumping up onto the wall, grabbing the bar above Kira and thrusting his feet into the policeman who just rounded the corner with his gun drawn. He swung himself down from the bar, landing lightly on his feet. “I know that if you get an idea in your head there’s nothing that’s gonna stop you from trying to see it through, but just hear me out. Let’s try to get some of that MCTA. Figment’s not up there so we might actually be able to steal it. After we get it, I’ll bring some of it back to Noire so we can start fixing up the base, and you can go off on your own—sound fair?”

“No, because I didn’t want it to begin with,” Kira replied, pulling out one of her guns and blasting a hole through the window at the end of the hall.

Artemis groaned, running his hand over the top of his masked head. “I can’t do it without you, K. Come on, what’ve we got to lose?”

“Our lives if they catch us,” she said as she hopped out of the window and onto the ledge, beginning to scale up the side of the slick, glass plated building. “It’s not that easy to escape a giant floating building in space, Artemis.”

With a few more expertly executed martial arts kicks and jabs, he took out a couple more cops who tried to pull them back into the building, and climbed up after her. “We won’t get caught. We’ll be careful.”

“I’m always careful,” Kira snapped, pausing briefly in her ascent to look down at him. “You’re the one who’s always screwing up my plans with your impulsiveness.”

“What if I promised to do exactly what you said this time? Come on, K! Whether you like it or not, all three of us need a score like this,” Artemis said. “That photon gun is peanuts compared to that MCTA stuff! If we bring just one piece of it back with us we could sell it, then we could finally help Noire update his base with the huge payday we’ll get—that’s what you want, isn’t it?”

Kira clenched her jaw, trying to ignore the hover cars that zoomed past them on the airway next to the police building. After a long moment of silent contemplation, Kira sighed. “Fine, I’ll do it, but only under one condition.”

Artemis’s moss green eyes lit up with hope. “Yeah?”

Kira smirked smugly, glad that he couldn’t see it. “Noire has to agree to it.”

His eyes narrowed, all optimism disappearing from them. “You know he’d never say yes to one of my ‘harebrained schemes’!”

Kira merely shrugged and continued up the side of the building, pressing the button for her cloaking device, making the two of them invisible to everyone else. “Those are my terms. If he ‘okays’ the heist then we’ll go, if he doesn’t, then we stay and try to convince him to move out of Imperial City.”

Although Artemis griped and moaned about how unfair it all was, Kira said no more on the subject the entire way back to Noire’s underground base.

 

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Happy Birthday Lewis Carroll!

I know this is irregular of me to be posting on a Tuesday, but I couldn’t pass up the chance to pay tribute to an inspiring children’s author on his birthday! That’s right, folks, 183 years ago today, Charles Lutwidge Dodgson (more famously known as Lewis Carroll) was born. So, I did a bit of digging around the internet and found a few things that I didn’t know about Mr. Carroll. Hopefully you find these little known facts as interesting as I did!

1. Carroll taught mathematics at Oxford University. Whoever thought math and literature could mesh so well together, huh?
2. He had ten siblings (seven sisters and three brothers) and they all played literary games together when they were children. I’m so jealous–I can’t even get my sister to play Words with Friends with me!
3. He invented the Carroll diagram (AKA the Lewis Carroll Square)—a method of grouping data that is still taught to this day.
4. Carroll suffered from quite a few physical and mental ailments including: a stammer, epilepsy, deafness in one ear, and ADHD—I’m never complaining about having to wear glasses again.
5. He gave the manuscript of Alice’s Adventures Under Ground (the first version of Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland) to Alice Liddell (12 at the time), in November of 1864.
6. Queen Victoria loved Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland so much that she asked if Carroll would dedicate his next book to her. So, in 1867, Carroll sent his ‘next book’, An Elementary Treatise on Determinants to the queen. I bet Queen Victoria found it just as light-hearted and whimsical as Alice! *SARCASM*
7. Lewis Carroll’s epitaph says: “Where I am, there shall also my servant be.”

 

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I’m not sure what to call this, but here we go!

So, since late December I’ve been working on a new book series which I have yet to name (hence the title of this post). In November I finished my sixth and final Prince of Prophecy book, and I promised myself that I was going to wait a little while to start writing again, but … I cracked. I HAD to start writing this or I would have probably exploded.

I had the idea for this science fiction series in 2009 (about three years before I started writing The Prince of Prophecy). It was originally going to be a Science Fiction/Horror series based off of a dream I had (I get a lot of my inspiration from dreams), but, in the end, I decided to lean more towards adventure than horror (although there will be horror elements). I was considering posting my originals notes, but they’re honestly not written very well…

However, what I do have for you is the prologue (first draft, so be gentle with me) of this new series of mine. If it’s received well, I might post a couple more preliminary chapters so be sure to “like” this post if you liked this post, haha!

***************

Prologue
Welcome to the Jungle

The sound that roused Noire from a peaceful sleep, he had not heard in a very long time and he shouldn’t have been hearing now—it was the middle of the night for goodness sake! He had painstakingly went to extreme lengths to make sure his base of operations stayed hidden from the authorities along with everyone else.
He sat up in bed, narrowing his yellowish eyes as he slipped his hand beneath his pillow to grasp the cold titanium handle of his plasma gun. Perhaps he’d just dreamt of the sound? That must have been it. There was no way anyone could know where he was—it just wasn’t possible.

Knock, knock, knock, came the infernal noise again. Noire could no long deny that someone was indeed at the entrance hatch of his underground base. He was very much awake and that sound was very much real. He slid from his bed and pressed a button on his bedside stand. Stairs extended from the floating platform upon which his ‘bedroom’ was located and he silently crept down the steps, keeping his finger on the trigger of his gun.

Knock, knock! The noise sounded more insistent this time, as he maneuvered around the mechanisms and equipment that littered the floor of his bunker. The machines whirred and hummed as their clear tubes glowed reds, blues, and greens in the otherwise – space. Although it may have looked like a mess of gadgets and machinery to the untrained eye, Noire had meticulously placed everything just so and nothing was a single nanometer out-of-place. Where others saw chaos, he saw order, and he liked it. That was what he excelled at—looking past the obvious and seeing things that others could not. This extraordinary ability is what his entire career hinged upon.

He prowled towards the entrance hatch his muscles tensing as he neared it. Whoever was at his door was dead, they just didn’t know it yet. There were plenty of ways he could exterminate the pests outside his door without even opening it, but he always got a bit vindictive when he was woken from a pleasant sleep—which was not often. He was going to see with his own eyes the face of the fool who dared encroach upon his solitude in the middle of the night.

Noire typed in a code upon the keypad of the steel reinforced entrance hatch and lifted his plasma gun. He heard the sound of one, two, three large bolts pulling back from their sockets, and a moment later the hatch slid aside to reveal three hooded figures standing just outside. The figure at the head of the group was holding what looked like a small body in his arms. The two men on either side of him already had their plasma guns trained on Noire. He kept his finger on the trigger of his own gun but didn’t shoot just yet.

“That’s it?” Noire asked, his expression as cold and stern as his steely voice. “You only brought two guards with you? You do know who I am, don’t you?”
The figure at the head of the group, carefully hoisted the body up onto his shoulder so he could remove his hood. Noire saw that the older man who stood before him had dark, slicked back hair with streaks of gray. His features were strikingly angular, and his eyes were as dark as the blackest night. Noire had seen this man before, but it had been several years since they last saw each other.

He slowly lowered his gun and the two hooded men did the same. “Mr. Cain. I thought our business had concluded.”

“So did I, Mr. Noire,” Cain replied, his voice low and growling. He had the same rich accent as Noire.

Noire had long suspected that Cain was from the same place as he—the eastern most quadrant of the North Western Empire formerly known as ‘England’. But he had never bothered to asked—given their relationship, Noire felt it was hardly an appropriate question. Now they, along with many others, resided on what centuries old—not to mention banned—texts referred to as the ‘North American Continent’.

“Why are you here?” Noire asked, his tone cooler than he intended it to be.

Cain didn’t seem to mind Noire’s cool demeanor. Instead he motioned to the bundled up figure in his bulky arms. “The package you left with us two years ago is no longer safe in our possession. You must take it back.”

Noire’s eyes fell upon the bundle over Cain’s shoulder. He felt the blood drain from his face in that instant. “No. No, I can’t take it. I’m in no position to care for something like that.”

“Do you think my organization was any more prepared for it than you are now?” Cain asked calmly. “We are a rebel militia group, not a daycare center. As you may know, the Timber Organization has recently come under fire, and the North-Western Empire has found many of our hideouts. For the safety of this child, she must stay where no one else can find her. She must stay with you.”

Noire’s lips pressed into a thin, white line. “You can’t be serious. My lifestyle isn’t suitable for a child—especially not one so young.”

“Then make it suitable,” Cain said, stepping over the threshold and offering what Noire now understood to be a blanket wrapped child to him. “This world is more dangerous than it has ever been before, and she needs to be protected. The emperor is scouring for her—she knows something that could incriminate his empire, I know it. It is my duty and yours to protect her as well as the information she possesses.”

Noire shook his head and backed away as if the child was an unstable chemical substance. “And just how do you suggest that I do that?”

“Make her forget. That’s the only way,” Cain said, his voice softening as he stroked the little girl’s back. “She hasn’t said why they might be after her, but she possess the information the Empire seeks—the information they want to keep secret from the rest of the world. It’s somewhere in that fascinating mind of hers… So you must extract it and keep it hidden well.”

Noire ran a hand through his short, black hair, glancing back into his chaotic bunker. “Extracting memories is tricky. My machine is a hundred years old at least—the best I can do is wipe her entire memory clean.”

“Then so be it. She’s only five—she has her entire life to create new memories. Pleasant memories,” Cain said. He shut his eyes for a moment, before going on. “Do you have a safe place to store the momentos you extract?”

“Of course. Unfortunately I have no way to view the momentos after I’ve extracted them,” Noire said, placing hand on his slender hip. “Last I checked, you wolves don’t have a way to do it either. Once I wipe her memory, that information the Empire wants her for might as well be destroyed. You really want to risk that?”

Cain exhaled through his nose and nodded once. “Perhaps one day the Timber Organization will be able to acquire a memory reader—that’s the best we can hope for, I suppose. But the most important thing is that she remains out of harm’s way. She’s more than just a way to help us bring down this Empire for good—she’s a living, breathing person, and she deserves the chance to experience life just like anyone else. She’ll have her best chance with you, Mr. Noire.”

Noire pressed his hands to his face and dragged them down until his fingers were steepled beneath his chin. “That’s why I brought her to you, Cain. I thought you would be able to give her her best chance. You’ve got a whole organization at your fingertips. I can’t raise a child! I’m not equipped. Besides, my business is one no impressionable youths should be subjected to.”

“I’m well aware of your ‘business’, Mr. Noire—or should I say Panther?”

Noire raised a brow. “So you know.”

“Of course, I know,” Cain said. “There is no one else on earth that possesses the skill to steal such precious artifacts from right underneath the Emperor’s nose. But, worry not, I’ve told no one that you and the elusive ‘Panther’ are one in the same.”

Noire’s yellow eyes flicker to Cain’s two companions. “Are those AIB’s?”

“Yes,” Cain replied. “The newest models.”

Noire raised his gun and shot both of Cain’s companions in the head. They sparked, shuddered violently, and fell to the ground. He then stuck his plasma gun in the waist band of his pajama pants. “Sorry. Can’t be too careful with bots—they’re really easy to extract information from.”

Cain glanced back over his shoulder at the broken Artificial Intelligence Beings, sighing to himself. “It’s alright. I would’ve had to do it when I returned to headquarters anyway. Although, I wouldn’t have been so brash with my execution…”

Noire shrugged. “To each his own.”

Cain hoisted the girl from his shoulder and handed her to Noire. He held out his arms, not wanting the sleeping child to fall to the ground. “Now then,” Cain said in his usual growling voice. “Take good care of her, Mr. Noire. Raise her well.”

“I’ll do the best that I can, but I doubt she’ll ever be what the Empire considers a ‘model citizen’. I’m a thief, not a nanny.”

Cain chuckled lowly as he turned to leave. “I would expect no less. You can keep the AIBs. They’re of no use to me now.”

“Wait!” Noire called hurrying after him. “She’s not chipped, is she?”

“Of course not,” Cain said, scowling back at him. “I’d never allow her to be sullied with Empire technology.”

Noire relaxed upon hearing this and held the girl closer to him. “Good.”

Cain continued on his way, waving his hand without even turning around. “Goodbye, Mr. Noire. If all goes well, we shouldn’t be seeing each other again any time soon.”

Noire watched Cain disappear into the darkness of the underground pipeline in which he’d made his home. He shut and locked the hatch once more before gazing down at the little girl in his arms. A gentle smile spread across his usually stern face as he touched the sleeping girl’s cheek with the back of his hand. “It’s good to see you again, Kira. You and I have a lot of work to do, don’t we?”

***************

I’m still working on the names of the technology I’m using in the book since this takes place 1000 years in the future (it’s going to be a challenge that will demand weeks of research). But if you guys have any ideas about futuristic technology and names of said technology, please leave them in the comments and if I like them I’ll include them in the series! Remember, if you enjoyed this, please like this post and I’ll post more chapters here. 🙂

 

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Writer’s Corner: Self Publishing–Not as easy as it looks

Around this time last year I started leaning towards publishing my first novel The Prince of Prophecy Vol. I: Destined without the hassle of looking for an agent or praying that a big publisher might give a first time author like me a chance. As those of you who have tried to publish a book may know, most publishers do not accept unsolicited manuscripts so cutting out the middle man (the agent) wouldn’t really help my situation. And that’s where I thought my dreams of being a published author would end—no agent, no publisher, and no chance.

Then I stumbled upon self-publishing. At first I was opposed to the idea—although it wasn’t for the right reasons. I thought print on demand books looked cheap and the title “self-published author” sounded so pretentious back then. However, I wanted my book published. I knew it was good and with some fine tuning I could make it even better. My ambitions outweighed my apprehension, and thus I decided to set aside my dreams of being signed with a big publisher.

Little did I know of the hurdles that awaited me…

The first things I did (to make things feel more official for me) was got out and register a Fictitious Business Name with my county, and applied for a business license. Next thing I knew Nautilus Press was up and running! I set up a website, a Facebook page, and a Twitter account for my business and waited for people to take an interest in my work. And I waited. And waited…

Nothing happened.

Not completely discouraged yet, I figured I’d expand my horizons a bit by creating a blog, buying some ad space on Facebook, and trying to advertise my book that way. Things picked up for a time and I acquired followers (albeit not as much as I’d hoped). Hope was temporarily restored for my “rags to riches” dream, and I thought that by the time by book was released in June I’d have HUNDREDS of devoted followers anxious to get their hands on a copy of my breakout novel, Destined.

I hired an illustrator—who was kind enough to take the job despite my only being able to pay her a pittance—to create the cover and six inside illustrations for the book. I begged friends, family, and acquaintances to edit the book for me since I didn’t have thousands of dollars to throw at a professional editor—needless to say, everyone did an excellent job and I’m proud to say that Destined is nearly pristine.

However, this was just the tip of the iceberg. Slowly new followers on my blog sites and new Facebook likes dwindled down to practically nothing. Not only that but I’d come to realize that I had to format my own books. Unfortunately, I didn’t know a thing about formatting—thank goodness for google, huh? Deadlines were creeping up on me (actually, they were charging at me like a bull at a matador), and no one seemed to care one way or another about all the time and money I was sinking into this book. It hurt. It made me want to quit. It made me feel like I was insignificant … and I still had so much to do before the book was released.

I was in way over my head with preparing the eBook, the paperback and the hardcover (the latter of which I don’t recommend if you haven’t got a large following), marketing the book, and making sure everyone I employed finished their work by the time I needed it done. It was like I was running a real business except I wasn’t getting paid anything to do the work!

I kept handing out more and more money in hopes of expanding my audience and maximizing sales when the book was finally released, but no matter how much money I spent nothing seemed to be getting any better. Despite how well-edited the book is, the beautiful cover art and illustrations that it contains, and the excellent reviews it has received from the few people who gave me, a first time author, a chance, I still haven’t broken even. I know I’ve got a great story (and apparently so do the people who’ve reviewed my book on Amazon.com, Barnes&Noble.com, and Goodreads.com), the problem is trying to get people to move past the stigma of self-publishing and give my books a shot. Trust me, that’s a lot harder than it sounds.

It took a lot of hard work to get where I am now, and, to be completely honest, I’m not in a much better position than when I started out. But I started down this path and, for better or for worse, I’m going to stick with it. The bright side? My books are beautiful and they’re done almost exactly the way I wanted them to be done. The integrity of my book remains intact, completely free of sparkling vampires and raunchy sex scenes. I met awesome people who, despite me being broke all the time, believe that my book series will be successful someday and are willing to help me make it the best that it can possibly be (I’m talking about you, Samantha and Eren).

The self-publishing path isn’t easy (as I hope you gathered from this article), and for a time you may find yourself working very, very hard for only a little return. Self-publishing is definitely not for those who give up when things get tough, nor for those who are content with throwing a half-finished manuscript onto the market. To produce a good book, you’ve got to put in the time and effort. You’ve got to truly believe that, despite the slow beginnings, your work is going to take off someday and never give up striving for it.

Bottom line: self-publishing is really hard … but I don’t regret starting down this path. I’m proud of all the work I’ve managed to complete by myself, and I know that I’ve got a really unique and interesting story in my Prince of Prophecy series. All the trials and tribulations I’ve faced aside, I’m happy with the fruits of my labors. And, as Frank Sinatra would say, I did it my way!

The Prince of Prophecy Vol. I: Destined and The Prince of Prophecy Vol. II: Cursed are available for purchase on Amazon.com and B&N.com.

 

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Lewis Carroll’s “As It Fell Upon a Day”

As I was sitting on the hearth

(And O, but a hog is fat!)

A man came hurrying up the path,

(And what care I for that?)

 
When he came the house unto,

His breath both quick and short he drew.

 

When he came before the door,

His face grew paler than before.

 
When he turned the handle round,

The man fell fainting to the ground.

 
When he crossed the lofty hall,

Once and again I heard him fall.

 
When he came up to the turret stair,

He shrieked and tore his raven hair.

When he came my chamber in,

(And O, but a hog is fat!)

I ran him through with a golden pin,

(And what care I for that?)

 

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