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+ Book, fantasy, Fiction, Historical Fantasy, literature, Religion, Urban Fantasy

Destiny: Divinity’s Finale, Chapter 2

by Unknown's avatar

II

 

Melisande spent the next few hours reading from the Bible at her bedside. She also had a small collection of parchment that she enjoyed going through. Her favorite was a small piece about ships at sea and the voyages that man had taken in the last 200 years. She knew all about the discovery of the New World and the colonies that had been established in the area.

More than anything, Melisande wanted to see all of these wondrous places both near and far. She despaired, knowing that such adventure would never happen so long as she was trapped behind the walls of Mont Saint Michel. It was a harsh reality to know that the place she’d called home was little more than a prison to her.

After reading through a few chapters, Melisande got bored and decided to go exploring. She left her room and headed for the main courtyard. She walked out to the main gate where a pair of guards was standing. The sun was just reaching its height overhead and illuminated the beautiful gardens that Melisande had helped plant.

One guard saw her coming and waved to her, “Good morning Melisande!”

She turned her attention to him and smiled. The young guard was only a few years older than her. He had long brown hair that was tied up under his helmet and dark brown eyes. Melisande always thought that he was a decent looking man, just not her type, “Good morning, how are things out here today?”

“Quiet as usual.” The guard replied in almost a whisper.

“You sound almost resentful.” Melisande commented in an inquiring tone. “Not a fan of the peace and quiet?”

The guard’s voice went from quiet to annoyed, “If I was, I would never have joined the military. I had enough peace and quiet on my family’s farm back home.”

Melisande nodded, “I know the feeling, believe me.”

The guard lowered his eyes as a realized that her situation was even worse. While he had some freedom on his farm, she had none in the abbey, “My apologies. I probably have no right complaining.”

The two stood silently for a moment when the guard finally tried to lift her spirit, “So I saw a ship today, a fairly large one too.”

Melisande’s eyes widened, “Really, what kind?”

“Just a carrack,” he replied boastfully, “nothing particularly special, but it had about six cannons on the side that I could see.”

“Six,” Melisande said in disbelief, “was she a warship?”

The guard chuckled, “I highly doubt it. Carracks don’t handle cannon fire very well. Most likely it was just an overprotective merchant who thought that adding a few extra guns would make his ship safer.”

Melisande nodded, “It’s still quite a mystery. What would be a good warship?”

The guard shrugged, “The Spanish rely pretty heavily on caravels and galleons, but I have heard of other navies using a ship called a galleass.”

“What is a galleass,” she asked.

“I’m afraid I don’t know,” he replied, “I’ve only heard of them. They’re ships with massive oars and a ram on the front. It’s sort of a silly design in this day and age if you ask me, but then again, I never was a sailor.”

Melisande nodded, “I wish I could be.”

The guard shrugged with a smile, “Maybe someday you will be.”

She laughed and shook her head, “What, me, a simple kitchen girl? Let’s not be silly.”

“Stranger things have happened.” The guard replied. “Don’t count yourself out so quickly.”

Melisande thought about it for a few moments and smiled, “Well thank you for at least temporarily raising my spirits.”

The guard returned to standing at attention, “Any time.”

Melisande spent the rest of the day wandering the courtyard, imagining that she was a sailor out on a ship far away from the abbey. A slight breeze blew through her hair, making the illusion all the more real for her. She could almost feel the crash of the waves against the wooden hull of the ship so yearned to serve on.

After a few hours, the sound of the waves in the distance and the gulls in the air made it too much for Melisande. She decided that it was best to just return to her room and spend the rest of the evening reading. Without another word to anyone, she disappeared back inside.

The sun set and was quickly replaced with stars. Melisande watched the night sky and attempted to count as many stars she could, even though she knew it would be impossible. One oddity that she had noticed in the sky since she was a child was that there were two stars that always seemed to be in the same place no matter what. They weren’t on any chart and were even visible when the others couldn’t be seen. She could never figure it out, but she had given up trying to a long time ago. Slowly, she began to drift off to sleep under the night sky.

Readers,

Do you have a question about writing, publishing, my stories, etc? Please feel free to post a comment or email me.
jimthewritingwizard@gmail.com
I’ll use those comments to select my next blog post.

I have been writing for several years, have 4 published works, experience with publishing and independent work, so I can hopefully be of assistance.
Please note, I only do one of these a day and will do my best to respond to everyone, but it may take some time.

Also, feel free to check out my works of Fantasy and Historical Fiction, Available on Amazon and where ever books are sold. See the link below:

http://www.amazon.com/James-Harrington/e/B00P7FBXTU

Thanks friends!
Catch you on the flip side!

-Jim

+

+ Book, fantasy, Fiction, Historical Fantasy, literature, Religion

Destiny: Divinity’s Finale Chapter 1

by Unknown's avatar

Book 1

A Simple Dream

I

Normandy 1601

The sound of loud church bells drove Melisande from her bed in the residence cells of Mont Saint Michel. She stood up, slid her feet into her wooden sandals and opened her window to let the sun in. This day was special for her as it was one of the few really warm days in Northern France.

The sea breeze caressed her face as the gentle sound of waves crashing on the shore filled her cell. It was high tide, which meant that the abbey was completely surrounded by water. Only a small bridge in the water connected the massive building to the mainland.

Melisande was a little disappointed as she enjoyed sneaking outside of the walls to run along the sandbars and marshes when the tide was out. It appeared that she would be stuck within the abbey’s walls at the mercy of her caretakers for the day.

Ever the optimist, she shrugged it off in the hopes of seeing a ship on the horizon. It was a common occurance to see the small sail of a fishing vessel or courior on the horizon, but every now and then, she would be treated to something larger. The height of her mornings were when she caught sight of a large merchant vessel or, every once in a while, a warship.

This would not be one of those mornings as her tranquility was quickly interrupted by a harsh knock at her door, “Melisande? Melisande, are you still in bed at this hour?”

Melisande let out a startled yelp as she raced for the robe hanging next to her bed, “I’m up, I’m awake!”

A deep sigh could be heard from the other side of the door, “Have you at least made yourself decent?”

Melisande quickly tied the sash to her robe, “Yes, you may enter.”

The door burst open revealing an old nun with her arms crossed on the other side. The nun was very heavy footed and her steps could be heard throughout the abbey when she walked. Upon seeing Melisande’s appearance, her lips formed a scowl, “Young lady, it is not becoming to stay in bed all day. You have studies and chores to perform.”

Melisande frowned, “I finished my studies yesterday and this is supposed to be my day to rest. Please Sister Mary, it has been a long time since I went exploring. Might I have a few hours to myself?”

Sister Mary rolled her eyes, “I have watched over you since you were a baby, I have taken care of you, and I have put up with your nonsense. Exploration and adventure are for soldiers and sailors. What you desire is not all it appears to be, believe me. That is the path of pain and loss. You need to learn to be a lady. Find yourself a calling and perhaps a husband. Especially since you’ve decided that you did not want to join a holy order.”

“I’m sorry Sister,” Melisande replied honestly, “I am grateful for your care… but becoming a nun never had any appeal for me. I have spent my whole life thus far behind these walls. I don’t wish to be behind them forever. Something out there calls to me, I can feel its pull.”

She looked over at the two stained swords that she had mounted over her bed, “Something bigger awaits me and I need to find out what it is.”

Sister Mary followed her gaze to the swords and shook her head, “I never wanted you to receive those things, but your father insisted, and I was not about to deny someone their dying wish.”

Her gaze then returned to Melisande, “Your path is your own to choose, though you may find yourself regretting such a decision if you go searching for answers. I hope that I don’t live to see that day.”

“You don’t know that.” Melisande replied. “These swords belonged to my family… and I don’t even know who they are. I need to find answers if I’m ever to be able to live with myself.”

The elderly nun touched one of the swords near the hilt, “A few generations of your family were protected by them, this is true, but where are they now? You are the last of your family.”

Melisande stood next to Sister Mary as she looked at the swords, “But I don’t even know them… I don’t even know what my family’s name is. Will you finally tell me about them, please? Who were they, what were they like, and what is my full name?”

The nun turned away from the swords and looked Melisande in the eyes for a few moments. She saw the stormy blue eyes that never looked the same from one moment to the next. It was as though an entire sky scene passed through her pupils as she stared.

Finally the nun sighed and turned to leave the room, “I told you that I forgot your family’s name. I did not know your family well, so I can’t provide you with any information. I only met them once when they released you into my care. I’m an old woman. My memory fails sometimes”

Melisande rolled her eyes and became angry, “You’re lying. I don’t know what you think you’re protecting me from, but I deserve to know. If you truly don’t know the answrs, then you know someone that does!”

Sister Mary stopped dead in her tracks, but did not turn around, “Two demerits for your tone. It’ll be three more if you don’t begin your chores soon.”

The door closed behind her as Melisande sat down on the bed and began to sulk. She had been confined to the abbey all of her life. Often times if a ship passed by, she would try to convince one of the soldiers on guard to let her use their looking glass. Most of the time, she was successful and Melisande spent the day watching as the ships passed.

The guards didn’t make life any easier for her as they were full of stories about wars past. Melisande loved to sit and listen to the old veterans talking about past glories from long ago, even though she knew that many of them were blatantly made up or exaggerated. It made her yearn even more to free herself from the protection of the abbey walls.

Melisande had often dreamt of a life at sea, but that life was restricted to men. However she was certain that she could make it work if only she could get away from the abbey. Such things were little more than pipe dreams as she knew that she was kept there for a reason. If she tried to escape on foot, the guards would catch her in no time.

Still, in many ways, Melisande could hear the sea calling to her. It was as though an unseen spirit of the sea was pulling at her arms, but Mont Saint Michel would not release her feet. She balled a fist and hit the stone wall as tears formed in her eyes. She could barely stand it anymore.

**

It took Melisande an hour to get cleaned up and get ready for her chores. She brushed her long blonde hair back behind her left ear and allowed the right bangs hang down to her cheek. Her hair flowed half way down her back as she worked. When she was finished tending to her appearance, she left her room and made her way down the tower’s winding staircase. She then proceeded through the abbey to the main kitchen as the residents and clergy finished their meals and began to clear out.

Melisande was seated over in the far corner and given a small bowl of wheat. She ate it down slowly, resenting the flavorless mush. She never sat with anyone and was mostly ignored by the other people in the room. When she was certain that no one was looking in her direction, she dumped the wheat into a nearby bucket that she would later use for cleaning.

Sister Mary came over to her a few minutes later with an emotionless expression on her face, “Well Melisande, I am glad that you are finally up and about. Are you ready to begin your chores?”

Melisande nodded unenthusiastically, “Yes sister, I finished breakfast, so I’ll get started.”

“Good,” she replied, “I believe Mr. Clement could use some help in the kitchen. You’ll start there today.”

“Yes sister,” Melisande replied respectfully.

Without another word to the old nun, she obediently turned and entered the kitchen at the back of the room. The kitchen was little more than a stone closet with a single oven carved into the back wall. Two tables were the only furniture and they were covered with dirty utensils.

Amidst the chaos, the cook looked up and smiled at Melisande as she began her work, “Top of the morning to you, Messy.”

Melisande smiled as she picked up the water bucket next to the fireplace, “Good morning, Papi.”

Papi was a stout man that, despite his imposing size, held himself the way a soldier would. Though he never talked about his past, Melisande was certain that he’d been a military man at some point. She didn’t know his real name and always referred to him as Papi or Papi Clement.

Though Papi was somewhat of an enigma to her, she still looked at him as a father figure. He was also the only man who got away with calling her by the nickname ‘Messy,’ which he gave her as a joke about how she cleaned. It always seemed to get a rise out of her which was something he enjoyed greatly.

Melisande’s attachment to him went back to when she was three years old and he would set aside some dough to make a cookie for her whenever he was cooking. As the years passed, she would periodically sneak off to the kitchen to see him whenever Sister Mary’s back was turned. He always enjoyed the company.

Papi was not a priest or a clergyman, but he was the best cook in town and was often hired at the abbey. He also had a reputation for disappearing for a few months at a time. His absence was always upsetting to Melisande and each time, she wondered if she would ever see him again.

Papi watched Melisande as she got down on her knees to clean the floors and noticed the sad look on her face, “What troubles you, Messy, why the sour look?”

Melisande stopped for a moment, “Have you ever felt that you were destined for more then you are, or ever asked the question whether or not this is all that’s out there for you?”

The chef chuckled as he thought back to his younger years, “Oh when I was younger, sure. We all have those feelings at one point or another. Fortunately, in my time, I have seen much of the world and had my share of adventure. After all that, a little peace and quiet is a welcomed change.”

“That’s what I want!” She blurted out. “I’ve often thought about getting out of here and seeing the world. I want adventure, but moreover, I want to know who I am and where I come from.”

She touched her cheek right below her eyes, “I know I’m different, I just would like to know how and why.”

“Different?” Papi asked. “What would make you think so?”

Melisande chose her words carefully as she responded, not wanting to cause alarm, “Well my eyes for one. I’ve not seen another pair quite like them in my years, and…”

Melisande stopped for a moment, wondering if he should tell Papi this part. She trusted him, but it was quite personal. Still, he had never given her a reason not to believe that he would keep her words quiet, “When I close my eyes at night, I see things.”

The old cook stopped tending to the mess, “Things, Messy? What sort of things?”

“I… I don’t know…” She replied. “I think they might be angels. I close my eyes and I see these beautiful people dressed in white robes, dresses, or in silvery armored plates. They all have wings, but many are different shapes and sizes. Other times, it’s just one angel with her eyes bandaged.”

Papi looked nervously at her, “Messy, I’d be very careful about who you tell about those dreams, especially here.”

“I know,” she said with a nod, “don’t worry, I am not so naive that I don’t know what they might think.”

Papi turned back to cleaning off his table, “So what do you think these dreams mean?”

Melisande shrugged, “If only I knew, but I think it has to do with who I am. These dreams don’t feel like dreams at all. They’re more like what you’d expect from memories, if that even makes sense.”

She looked over at the small window which had been cut into the wall, “I want to find out, but I can’t do that as long as I’m stuck here.”

“You are probably better off not knowing.” Papi replied. “The world out there is a treacherous place. Even the strongest have trouble just getting by.”

Melisande glumly nodded continued her work, “Yes, that’s what everyone says. It’s too dangerous… I should just stay here and become a nun… forever… You sound like Sister Mary.”

Papi bit his lip as he looked at her, “Messy, I have some bad news for you.”

Melisande usually knew what this meant. Papi was going to be disappearing again. She closed her eyes as she responded, “You’re leaving again, aren’t you?”

Papi nodded, “Yeah, tomorrow.”

“For how long?” She asked.

“I can’t say.” Papi replied. “Hopefully not for too long.”

Melisande frowned, “I’ll miss you…”

“I’ll miss you too, little Messy,” Papi replied, “but no more frowning. I’ll be back!”

“You promise?” She demanded.

“Have I ever lied to you before?” Papi asked. “Of course I promise.”

“You better.” Melisande replied.

Melisande was meticulous in her cleaning. She made sure that no crack in the floor went unattended to. An hour went by as Papi and Melisande worked. They were just finishing wiping everything dry when Sister Mary appeared at the door and looked around.

Melisande smiled, “I’ve finished cleaning, what do you think?”

Sister Mary surveyed the room, as usual, without a hint of emotion and nodded, “Satisfactory work… ok, you have done your chores for the day.”

“Satisfactory?” Melisande scoffed with a surprised expression. “I scrubbed everything until it was spotless.”

Papi nodded, “I saw how hard she was working, madam, she scrubbed the entire kitchen down.”

Sister Mary gave Papi a stern look before turning back to Melisande, “Don’t ask one’s opinion, if you don’t honestly want it. Now be gone with you.”

An exasperated Melisande stared at her for a moment in disbelief. The nun returned her stare and clapped her hands, “Come now, move it!”

Still in disbelief, Melisande shook her head and stormed past the old nun up the stone steps, heading back to her room. She was angry, upset, and frustrated all at once. It never seemed like anything she did was good enough. Just once, a’ good job,’ or a ‘thank you for working so hard,’ would be appreciated. She thought to herself. Not from Sister Mary, no way, that would be too much to ask!

Melisande was years ahead of other people in her studies and she always did a good job on her chores. Though she credited being so far ahead in studies with the fact that she simply had nothing better to do with her time. In her heart, she would have made the trade to have experienced some of what the outside world offered.

**

Papi shook his head as Melisande disappeared. Sister Mary turned back to him, “You disapprove of the way I’ve raised Melisande, do you?”

“Not at all madam,” he replied, “she’s a strong-willed, but polite and hard working young woman. You’ve done as fine a job with her. As good as anyone could hope to.”

Sister Mary’s stoic expression didn’t change, “Don’t hold back. Say what’s on your mind, Mr. Clement.”

Papi looked at the stone stairs where Melisande had been standing, “However, I don’t know about how you treat her sometimes. It seems a little cold. I may not know much about her case, but she is still young. I doubt her being here is her own fault.”

Sister Mary glared at him once again, “You think I’m hard on her because I blame her for being here?”

“I can only judge based on what I’ve seen.” Papi replied. “It does look like you’re hard on her for something even she doesn’t understand.”

“Then perhaps you should watch more closely.” Sister Mary hissed. “It has been my charge to care for her since she was born. I have raised her within the church and protected her.”

“Protected her?” Papi said suspiciously, “Protected her from what?”

Sister Mary turned to leave the kitchen, “You are paid to cook, not investigate. Keep your opinions to yourself and let me decide what is best for her.”

Papi shook his head with a slight grin, “Don’t ask one’s opinion, if you don’t honestly want it.”

Sister Mary paused for a moment before turning and giving the cook an angry stare as she walked away. She didn’t appreciate her words being used against her.

Papi smiled, knowing that this was one of those rare times where he actually won an argument against her.

Readers,

Do you have a question about writing, publishing, my stories, etc? Please feel free to post a comment or email me.
jimthewritingwizard@gmail.com
I’ll use those comments to select my next blog post.

I have been writing for several years, have 4 published works, experience with publishing and independent work, so I can hopefully be of assistance.
Please note, I only do one of these a day and will do my best to respond to everyone, but it may take some time.

Also, feel free to check out my works of Fantasy and Historical Fiction, Available on Amazon and where ever books are sold. See the link below:

http://www.amazon.com/James-Harrington/e/B00P7FBXTU

Thanks friends!
Catch you on the flip side!

-Jim

+

+ literature

Destiny: Divinity’s Finale

by Unknown's avatar

Hello all,

Since starting work on Soul Siphon, I’ve been unable to decide whether I wanted to green light the third and final installment of the Divinity Saga. An adventure/romance fantasy story called ‘Destiny.’
This story takes place years after the events of the first two novels. In any case, instead of putting it to publishing, I’m submitting it to all of you in it’s raw form. If you like it and think I should publish it, PLEASE let me know. I have my email listed at the bottom of each chapter, so please let me know.  There is still a lot of work that would need to go into it, but this is the basic story. Please note, it will be posted over the span of a few weeks, given the massive size of the file!

Thanks friends, appreciate your feedback,
Jim

 

Destiny

A Novel by James Harrington

Printed and Bound in the USA

Copyright © 2015 by James Harrington

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual living persons is purely coincidental.

 

A note from the author:

Hello and welcome! I hope that you will enjoy your journey our characters as they embark on their adventure. Before you begin, I just wanted to clarify a few things.

You encounter many characters, both fictional and historical. The fictional characters are just that; fictional. Any resemblance they bear to real people is purely coincidental.

As for the historical figures that appear in the pages ahead, I have done the best I can to portray the historical characters as accurately as possible, based on the information availavle on each. However, please understand that I am exposing them to fictional situations. It is impossible to predict definitively how one might have actually reacted in these events, so again, this is based on what information is available.

Lastly, I would just like to note that this story in no way should be taken as a criticism of the beliefs of any denomination of Christianity. As a catholic, I acknowledge that the leaders of several denominations weren’t always the most upstanding of people and that is what is reflected in my writing, but that does not invalidate anyone’s belief in God or the teachings they follow.

I hope that you will enjoy this work of fiction for what it is; a work of fiction. Thank you and God bless!

Jim H.

 

Prologue

Venice 1585

Black clouds choked out all light from the sun as a dark, ominous, day turned into a black and violent night. As the remaining light vanished from the skies of Venice, the water became extremely choppy and rain hammered down on any poor fool still outside at that late hour. Boats tugged at their moorings as the wind beat down on them. It was as though the world had transformed into something malicious.

The small fishing village was no stranger to rough weather, but this night was different. The wind coming in off of the water bore ill tidings from afar. Even people possessing little to no awareness could feel the evil around them. Many instinctively closed the shutters on their windows as though the town were about to fall under attack.

Federico watched from the safety of his house near the harbor, as the waves picked up. The water poured over his private dock, and he wondered how long his boat would last. It was his livelihood and had been in the family for generations.

At the moment, however, this was the least of Federico’s worries. He knew what was approaching, and what this meant for his family. As he peered out the window, his vision was obscured by the amount of rain water pouring down the glass. It was as though he was standing behind a small waterfall trying to peer through, but he still had enough clarity to see the black carriage with lanterns on either side break through the night.

Two mighty brown horses pulled the old carriage right to the door of the house. Federico breathed a sigh of relief as the carriage stopped just outside of his door. The waterlogged driver jumped out of his seat and pulled the carriage door opened, allowing three people in black robes to step out.

The fire in the stove fought to stay alive as the door opened and a gust heavy wind penetrated the room. It was as though opening the door had allowed something evil into the house. The three cloaked figures entered the room and, once sheltered from the rain, removed the drenched cloaks that they had been wearing.

Federico fought against the heavy wind to get the door closed. Once it finally connected to the lock, he breathed a sigh of relief before turning to his guests. As the cloaks came off, they revealed two young priests and a nun. The priests wore red and black robes and each had swords sheathed on their belts.

“Welcome to my home,” Federico said with a relieved look, “I appreciate your quick response to my letter. I take it that you know what is going on?”

The nun turned to Federico and nodded. Her face had deep creases, indicative of someone who had lived a hard life. Her face was twisted into a scowl as she spoke, “We came as soon as we heard. I am Sister Mary, where is she?”

There was a sudden flash of light and a winged woman appeared behind them. Federico brushed back his light brown hair and nodded, “Lailah will take you to her.”

Sister Mary bowed, “Blessed Angel, we are here to carry out the Lord’s bidding as you commanded.”

Lailah returned the gesture with a smile, “Please follow me, Sister. It won’t be long now.”

The two women disappeared into the next room and closed the door behind them. Federico shook his head as he turned to the priests, “I had prayed that this night would never come. I was told about the prophecy from childhood, but had hoped it would pass my generation by.”

The older priest placed his hand on Federico’s shoulder, “No one who faces these dark times would choose to bring it on themselves or the ones they love, my son.”

“But how could God let this happen?” Federico asked. “If he knew… it was possible.”

The priest shook his head, “I somehow don’t think that even he foresaw this during certain events in your family’s history.”

Federico lowered his eyes and spoke in a defeated tone, “Padre…  just promise me that she will be safe. Don’t let this all be for nothing.”

“On my life,” the priest replied as he touched his sword, “she will be safe and she will live comfortable life. That is our mandate and it will be carried out as long as we draw breath.”

Federico was satasfied with the priest’s promise. It appeared that everything was going according to how it had been spelled out in the prophecy. It was little comfort to him though as he could feel danger approaching.

“Padre…” Federico finally said softly with tears in his eyes, “Would you be so kind as to give me my last rights?”

The priest’s eye’s narrowed, “Of course my son, but why?”

“Please Padre,” Federico insisted, “I have a very bad feeling that our time is growing short.”

The priest didn’t understand what Federico meant, but he had not been given all the details of what was about to transpire. Sister Mary was in charge in this case, by official order of the bishop. His job was simply to see to her saftey. Having no other choice, he finally agreed, “Very well, my son.”

**

In the next room over, Sister Mary, led by the angel Lailah, encountered a woman lying in a small bed. She was covered in sweat and breathing rapidly. Her dark brown hair was matted to her head and she was clearly in pain. Sister Mary spoke in an emotionless voice as lighting struck outside, “It has begun.”

The woman’s stomach was bulging as Sister Mary took a seat at the edge of the bed. The old nun adjusted her robes to prevent them from being soiled and spoke in an emotionless voice, “Cecca, I’m Sister Mary. I am here to help. It is almost time, are you ready to start pushing?”

Cecca struggled to brush her matted hair back from her face and nodded. She was in so much pain that she could not move anything else. Lailah folded her wings, tied back her curly, light brown, hair and knelt down near Cecca’s head to wipe the sweat from her brow, “You can rest easy. I will be here with you to the end.”

“Bless you, angel.” Cecca forced out between breaths. “Bless you.”

Sister Mary took hold of Cecca’s legs and bent them up at the knee. She watched and waited patiently for a few minutes. Cecca’s breathing was becoming eratic as her whole body shifted.

Finally, when Sister Mary decided that the time was right, she looked up at Cecca, “It is time, pray to Almighty God and push.”

Cecca closed her eyes and screamed as she pushed with her entire body. Sister Mary nodded as the woman’s arms and legs quivered, “Good, good, again.”

Federico listened desperately as his wife struggled in the other room. He wanted to be there with her, but the elderly nun would not have allowed it. This was one time that he needed to remain out of the way. An hour went by as the young man listened helplessly as his wife’s agonizing screams shot through the house. Her voice suddenly fell silent and a new one appeared.

The scream of a newborn child shattered the dark aura in the room. Federico’s faced lightened up as he turned away from the door and back to the priest, “Do you hear that? Do you, it’s clear as day!”

Both priests nodded as the older one smiled, “Congratulations my son. The baby sounds healthy.”

A short time later, Sister Mary came to the door, pale white, with a look of fear in her eyes. She stood for a moment looking at Federico, and then over to her escorts, “Our worst fears have become reality.”

The two priests stepped past Federico and into the room where Lailah was holding the child. Lailah looked at them both solemnly and nodded, “As the Most High feared, the prophecy has come true, look.”

She held the child out to them and uncovered its face. Miraculously, the newborn’s eyes were wide open. Her pupils looked almost identical to those of Lailah. She giggled as she looked up at the priests.

Cecca sighed as her eyes began to close, “Little Aralyn…”

The younger priest’s lips twisted, “I still don’t understand, blessed angel, would you not be better suited to keep her safe?”

Lailah shook her head, “That is outside of my mandate. I have already done more than I am supposed to.  Priests travelling hallowed grounds will have a better chance of keeping her hidden and safe from the dark one’s eyes than a lone angel flying around. The dark ones will not be able to trace you like they can me.”

The priest sighed as Lailah handed the mystical child to them, “Very well.”

At that moment, one of the windows crashed open, shattering the glass. The wind ripped through the room like an invisible wildfire. The thunder became even louder as Federico struggled to put a plank of wood over the opening.

Sister Mary turned quickly to the preists, “The storm is getting worse, we must go now or we will be trapped here!”

At that moment, Cecca came to life on the bed, “Wait, please, just a few minutes… won’t you please let me hold her?”

Sister Mary looked at the child stoically and shook her head, “I’m sorry, there is no time.”

“Please, no, you can’t take her, please!” Cecca pleaded with the old nun as she tried to get up. “My baby!”

Federico heard Cecca’s frantic cries and ran into the room to confort her, “I’m so sorry my love…”

Cecca buried her head in Francesco’s arms, “No… It’s not fair… why us?”

Federico looked up at Sister Mary, “Is there no way?”

For the first time in years, a look of sympathy came over Sister Mary’s features as she shook her head, “If there were, I would allow it. As it stands, there is not. We must leave if there is to be any chance.”

Federico sighed and closed his eyes, “Then go, now! Leave this place… keep her safe…”

The priests obediently turned and began to leave. The older priest looked back sympathetically, “Peace be with you, my children. For what it’s worth… I am sorry.”

Federico, remembering a promise he had made to Cecca, suddenly shot to his feet, “Wait, Padre!”

“My son, we have no time!” The old priest responded sternly.

“I know,” Federico replied apologetically, “but I have something for you.”

He quickly went to the closet and came back with a staff-like object draped in a red cloth. The priest saw that the cloth was protecting two very old swords. He looked at them oddly for a moment and then back at Federico, “My son?”

“Please take them.” Federico insisted. “They belonged to my great grandparents. Make sure she receives them when she is old enough… “

“You want us to give your daughter weapons?” The priest asked in disbelief.

“I understand that it may not make much sense to you Padre,” Federico replied, “but these swords have protected my family for generations. Please take them.”

The priest eyed him oddly for a moment. Federico’s expression became despirate under the priests eyes, “Consider it the last wish of a dying man.”

The priest sighed and took the swords before turning back to his party, “Oh very well.”

Once they were ready, the group bid farewell to Federico and left him to tend to his emotionally shattered wife. The group exited the house and boarded their carriage with the child in their care. They knew that they had to move quickly in order to get her to saftey.

Lailah followed behind them, “Keep that child safe, at all costs.”

The elder priest turned back to her, “Blessed Angel, what will happen to them now?”

Lailah turned back and looked at the house. She brushed her long brown hair from her eyes and let out a defeated sigh, “I did the best I could to shield the family from the evil that is hunting them… but it proved to be too much for me. They aren’t safe anywhere now.”

She turned back to the priest with a reassuring look on her face, “Don’t worry Padre, my sister has seen to it that her kin will be taken care of. You need to focus on your own part.”

“What hope do we have against such power?” The younger priest demanded.

“Leave that to me.” Lailah replied. “Just go while you still can.”

The driver took his seat without another word and snapped the rains. The horses whinnied as they charged forward. The priest looked back as the carriage sped away, “Peace be with you, blessed Angel.”

Lailah closed her eyes for a moment and muttered a prayer under her breath. At that moment, a white aura appeared around the carriage and then vanished. She nodded, confident that they were now safe from harm.

A moment later, Federico came to the door with a look of sorrow on his face as the carriage disappeared from view. Lailah turned to him, “They will be safe now.”

When Federico’s expression didn’t change, she became worried, “Federico, what is it?”

“My wife…” Federico replied. “The stress of the pregnancy was too much for her.”

Lailah closed her eyes for a few moments. When she reopened them, a sharp pain entered her heart as tears fell down her cheeks, “Federico, I am so sorry…”

Federico’s jaw tightened up as he stepped away from the house and stood beside Lailah, “Tell me that this has all been worth it. Tell me that she’ll survive.”

Lailah nodded, “Your daughter has a long struggle ahead of her, she will not know who she is and may never know her family, but she will survive to adulthood.”

“What about after that?” Federico demanded.

Lailah closed her eyes for a moment and shook her head, “I don’t know. Her future is clouded even from my eyes.”

Suddenly, out in the distance, an unearthly moan emanated over the waves. Lailah began breathing heavily, “They are coming…”

Federico ran back inside his house, grabbed his sword from behind the door, and rejoined Lailah out front, “I’ll kill him myself.”

Lailah smiled, “You have your ancestor’s heart, but that won’t protect you this time. You are no match for this creature.  I would suggest you go back inside.”

“I don’t think so.” Federico replied adamantly. “You have watched over me and my family as we waited for this day. There is no escaping now and I’ll never see the two people I love the most again. I have nothing left and you are the closest thing I still have to family. My soul is prepared Lailah. You’re not facing him alone.”

Lailah nodded, “Very well…”

The two looked at each other hopelessly as a deep moan emanated from the black water. Lailah went pale and took a step forward, “He approaches.”

There was another flash of light from the sky as a formless black entity appeared in front of them. It was little more than a cloud that quickly took the shape of a human, but had no features at all. It was little more than a silhouette in the darkness.

Two bright yellow eyes appeared on its head. It stepped forward and spoke in a dark, inhuman, voice, “So many years since we’ve been able to walk the lands of this world… Where is she?”

Lailah stared into the creature’s malice-filled yellow eyes, “Safe.”

The creature’s eyes began burning bright as they took a menacing shape, “We are giving you one chance to give us what we want. Do this, and we’ll let you live… for now.”

Lailah shook her head, “The Most High won’t negotiate with the likes of you.”

“The Most High is a part of us!” The creature shot back.

“Why resist us?” It asked. “We only wish to take back what is rightfully ours from that deceptor, Lucifer.”

“Because Lucifer isn’t a threat to us,” Lailah replied, “you are.”

The yellow eyes narrowed, “If you won’t help us willingly, then we will rip the answer from your corpse!”

“Never!” Federico shouted as he stepped forward. “You will die first!”

Before he could say anything else, a sharp object burst through Federico’s chest and he was elevated off of the ground. A small imp appeared behind Federico as his body fell limp. Lailah was unable to react in time, “No!”

The entity cackled, “We think not. We did not wait eons to be stopped by a child race.”

The imp pulled the blade from Federico’s back as he fell to the ground. Blood mixed with the puddles of water that had pooled on the beach. Federico lay on his side as his eyes began to flutter. He looked up at the sky and reached out with all his strength, “Cecca…”

Within moments, Federico’s body went limp and his eyes closed. Lailah spoke through a clenched jaw, “Federico was an innocent! He never hurt anyone and he was of no threat to you! If you want to retake the underworld, then by all means do so, but leave these people out of…”

Lailah stopped mid-sentence and found herself unable to draw breath. She grabbed her neck as the entity raised a clenched fist from its side. Lailah’s body began to levitate off the ground as though she were being hanged.

The entity moved even closer until Lailah could feel its hot breath on her face. Its eyes suddenly went from yellow to red, “We do not take orders from you! Be gone, pathetic insect!”

The creature flicked its wrist and released its grip on Lailah. In response to its hand motion, the helpless angel shot backwards through a window. The glass shattered all around her, ripping into her skin as she landed in Federico’s kitchen. The entity began laughing hysterically as it waved its arm.

At that moment, the entire house burst into flame as though obeying his command. The flames filled the dark sky and lit up the town like it was daylight. The heat inside was so intense that any human would have been horribly burned had they been too close.

Inside, Lailah tried to protect herself from the inferno by covering herself with her wings. When the flame hit her, it incinerated her feathers. She screamed out in pain as the skin of her wings seared and began to blister.

There was nothing Lailah could do now. Knowing that she was near death, she closed her eyes and began to pray, “Oh Lord Most High, let this fate pass me by. Take me into thy loving hands. Spare your loyal servant this pain…”

Lailah received no answer as the skin of her wings began to turn black. She clenched her eyes shut and tried to fight the pain, but she was losing control of her mind as the agony took over. Looking at her wings, she knew she wouldn’t be able to fly again, if she survived.

Outside, the entity raised its hand again and squeezed its fist. Lailah was elevated by her neck once more and tossed through another window. Her clothing was scorched and all but burned away, her skin was badly scarred, and her wings were completely crippled. She landed on the beach away from the burning house.

Steam poured off her skin and the agony was destroying her mental stability. She trembled as her memories and reason gave way to madness. She rolled on her back as the remains of her clothing disintegrated.

The entity slowly made its way down to her to avoid being seen by the crowd of people coming out to fight the flame. Lailah saw it coming and didn’t even bother to try to cover herself. Her mind was almost gone and she barely even knew who she was.

The creature looked down at her, “You are now powerless and no one is coming to save you. There is no escape, tell us what we want to know and we’ll grant you a quick death!”

Lailah breathed in as deeply as she could, but refused to speak. Even in her state, she was not about to give the creature any satasfaction. The entity saw this and nodded, “We understand… despite the fate which lies ahead of you, you still protect such pitiful creatures. We admit that we did not think his servants had such iron.”

From her hands and knees, Lailah looked up at the entity with a defiant yet fearful look in her eyes. Her mind was scrambled and she had a hard time just putting words together, “Wh… what you go… do with me?”

The entity laughed at her broken speech, “Nothing I can do to you would compare to the horror that awaits you at the hands of these creatures… or your own mind. We are going to leave you here for them to find. What happens to you will be up to them.”

Lailah gasped as the entity turned away from her. She closed her eyes and rested her head on the cold sand as her sight left her. The rain and the damp ground were her only comfort as she waited for death. The imp that had accompanied the entity landed nearby, “I live to serve you my lord!”

The entity clenched its fist, barely paying attention to the small creature, “Where did they take the child?”

“I don’t know my lord.” The Imp responded nervously. “The humans appear to have been protected from our site, we couldn’t track them.”

The entity clenched its fists as it turned away, “It would appear that even in her weakened state, the angel’s powers were more than enough to help them evade you… you’ve failed us yet again… We want you and your minions to begin searching everywhere! Search for a lifetime if you have to, but we want that child found! Fail, and it will be your last!”

The imp bowed, “My life is to server you, Legion.”

Readers,

Do you have a question about writing, publishing, my stories, etc? Please feel free to post a comment or email me.
jimthewritingwizard@gmail.com
I’ll use those comments to select my next blog post.

I have been writing for several years, have 4 published works, experience with publishing and independent work, so I can hopefully be of assistance.
Please note, I only do one of these a day and will do my best to respond to everyone, but it may take some time.

Also, feel free to check out my works of Fantasy and Historical Fiction, Available on Amazon and where ever books are sold. See the link below:

http://www.amazon.com/James-Harrington/e/B00P7FBXTU

Thanks friends!
Catch you on the flip side!

-Jim

+

+ Author, Book, Comic, fantasy, Fiction, Reading, Urban Fantasy

A Request From The Author

by Unknown's avatar

Hi All, Soul Siphon has been doing great from what I’ve seen thus far in terms of readership. I’d like to thank everyone who has purchased a copy and even those who are considering it. One thing I would ask is that upon completion of the novel, PLEASE leave a review, preferably on Amazon, but any book selling site would be great! Word of mouth is everything in the business and your help would be greatly appreciated!

DSC_2044

Thanks friends!
-Jim

Readers,

Do you have a question about writing, publishing, my stories, etc? Please feel free to post a comment or email me.
jimthewritingwizard@gmail.com
I’ll use those comments to select my next blog post.

I have been writing for several years, have 4 published works, experience with publishing and independent work, so I can hopefully be of assistance.
Please note, I only do one of these a day and will do my best to respond to everyone, but it may take some time.

Also, feel free to check out my works of Fantasy and Historical Fiction, Available on Amazon and where ever books are sold. See the link below:

http://www.amazon.com/James-Harrington/e/B00P7FBXTU

Thanks friends!
Catch you on the flip side!

-Jim

+ Uncategorized

IS WRITING THERAPEUTIC? — Peace To The Mind

by Unknown's avatar

Using a personal journal to record your thoughts and concepts on a daily basis can be a stress reliever. This a way to be in touch with yourself and the universe about what’s essential to you. Someone may say ‘That doesn’t make any sense’ or ‘How can writing down a few sentences make anyone feel […]

via IS WRITING THERAPEUTIC? — Peace To The Mind

+

+ advice, Author, Book, Fiction, literature, Uncategorized

Bad Reviews…

by Unknown's avatar

Hi James,
We connected on Twitter and I got your email address from your website. You had made a comment on Twitter to feel free to email for advice.
I’m new to self-publishing and released my first book in January.  I had worked on the manuscript off and on for a couple of years before getting serious about publishing.  I did the best I could on proofing, but couldn’t afford to hire a professional proofreader.  I did, however, hire a professional to convert the file for Amazon ebook & Create Space print version.  Before I read some information from some other successful writers, I had solicited a couple of reviews from a company that does reviews.  My book has 3 prior positive reviews with a 3 1/2 star rating on Amazon.
This company I went with has review agents working for them and the one who did my book review was from Canada and it didn’t show up on Amazon U.S.   The only way I knew it had even been done was purely by accident. I happened to sign in to Goodreads where I had my book listed and saw I had a review with a score of 1, but there were no comments.  Because I was wondering why I had received the low score, I emailed her and she replied with the link to the review on Amazon. ca.
How does an author come to grips with a bad review?  I know I need to put this behind me and move on, but the reviewer is also supposed to be an editor and I was told by the person who runs the company that I should hire her to fix what is wrong instead of complaining about the low review.  Was I out of line by requesting that she remove her review? I based the request according to what the reviewer told me, “I usually don’t even post a review if I can’t give it at least 3 stars.”  I was accused in an email from the person who runs the company as “you’ve been somewhat harassing one of our readers.”
I was devastated.   I know I need to get more thick skinned, but is this normal conduct for a company or reviewer?   I just need another professional authors opinion.   Thanks for letting me vent and I’m looking forward to your reply.
bizwings

Hi J.E.
Hope all is well with you. Thank you for the email! So… honestly I had a similar experience on my first published work. It was given a 1 star review on Goodreads with no reason or comments. I had to go digging a little further for why they gave it 1 star. I don’t know why goodreads pulls in the stars without the review like that, it’s not really fair, but it happens. Truth be told, I avoid that site, I’ve never really been a huge fan.
Personally, I don’t like the idea of hiring someone to write reviews for you. I tend to ask people who read the book to leave reviews and they tend to be pretty good about it. Anyway, were you out of line? Pardon my bluntness… but yes. Hiring reviewers, you always run the risk of getting reviews that you’re not going to like… and paying for them. You’re not paying them to be ‘yessirs’ you’re paying them for their opinions. Plain and simple.
Nothing bites worse than having something you worked hard on, and dedicated a lot of time and money to, getting a bad review. However, you can’t take it personally, because the more you write, the more it’s going to happen. In a world where literally everyone has an opinion and no two of them are ever exactly alike, bad reviews are par for the course. Look at Rotten Tomatoes when it comes to movies. How many movies have a 100% fresh review? How many? Heck even timeless classics like the Wizard of Oz have bad reviews on them (Well… 1% for the Wizard of Oz and I would love to meet the critic with the cast-iron balls who gave that bad review.)
The best way to look at these reviews is to figure out what people didn’t like about your book. If they leave reviews like ‘I don’t like this character, they just didn’t strike me as someone I can relate to.’ Well that’s fine. Someone else will relate to that character. Again, it’s opinion. However then you’re going to get reviews like ‘I found the plot to be a little stale or unbelievable because (insert reason).’
To me, this is constructive criticism. This is something I can take and build off of for my next book. This is the kind of thing you’ll need to get used to, especially if you’re ever going to get people to edit and critique your book. I tell the people who edit mine to hold nothing back. I WANT them to be as brutal as possible and they… hesitantly give me exactly what I want. Why do I want such abuse? Because the more blunt they are, the more I can fix before I publish. The same can be said for people leaving reviews after that fact.
Are their going to be mean reviewers out there? Absolutely, but they are usually in the minority. Most people aren’t being mean, they’re simply sharing their opinion of something they either like or didn’t like so others, including the author know what to look out for. As long as you look at the criticism as constructive, you’ll be a lot happier.
Anyway, I hope this helps! Please feel free to email me if you need further help!
Thanks,
Jim

Readers,

Do you have a question about writing, publishing, my stories, etc? Please feel free to post a comment or email me.
jimthewritingwizard@gmail.com
I’ll use those comments to select my next blog post.

I have been writing for several years, have 4 published works, experience with publishing and independent work, so I can hopefully be of assistance.
Please note, I only do one of these a day and will do my best to respond to everyone, but it may take some time.

Also, feel free to check out my works of Fantasy and Historical Fiction, Available on Amazon and where ever books are sold. See the link below:

http://www.amazon.com/James-Harrington/e/B00P7FBXTU

Thanks friends!
Catch you on the flip side!

-Jim

+

+ advice, Comic, Comic Book, literature, Opinion, Uncategorized

Do Comic Books Count As Reading?

by Unknown's avatar

A lot of people, mostly older and notably academic, would say no. You’re basically looking at a lot of pretty pictures with some text. It has no real character or setting description, no alteration, nothing.

Which is true, but does it really matter that much? On the one hand, you could argue that a picture is worth a thousand words and you’re omitting those words by showing rather than telling, thus making it easier on the reader. Is this a valid point though?

Well maybe… you really are taking what could be explained in several pages and condensing it to a single tile on a page, but that doesn’t make it negative.

Personally, I don’t see these two as being the same medium, closely related, but no the same medium. You have visual and written mediums, as well as audible mediums. One is no less valid than the other. In this case, I’d say that comics and manga are a hybrid of two mediums, no less valid than either of them.

Yes when the writer paints the picture instead of describing it, you lose something. Now the reader can’t as easily build the world in their own imagination as they see fit, but it also gives the reader a chance to become more immersed in the world. By showing instead of telling, the reader can focus more on the characters and their development instead of imagery. Many people like comics because they say so much with just a few lines of cleverly chosen dialogue.

In a normal book, many writers get too tied up in imagery and descriptions instead of letting the reader figure it out. This can lead to some becoming disinterested or even bored with what they’re reading. There are many books out there that I can remember where I could skip over whole pages of description without really missing anything. In comics and manga, I couldn’t imagine skipping over a single panel and still being able to continue reading.

So in the end, do comic books count as reading? Honestly, yes. They may not really fall into the literature category, but that doesn’t make them any less valuable. When I was in college taking intro to education classes, I remember being taught about how there are some people who learn better with visuals, and some who learn better by just hearing things. Honestly, I remember struggling in school in the younger grades because it was a time when education was more of a one-size-fits-all deal where there was more tell and less show. Today, that isn’t the case. In fact, I had a few history classes in college where graphic novels such as MAUS  were required reading. The classroom dynamic has changed to much that hybrid mediums such as graphic novels and comics are becoming more accepted.
In fact, there is a great charity organization out there called the Caroline Manga Library. It is a great traveling charity that’s goal is to teach and raise literacy awareness through manga and comics. They go to several cons and events, offering a wide library of comics, manga, artwork and so on. It really is a great organization. |

Yes, nothing will ever replace classic stories and the written word, but that’s not necessarily the goal of manga and comics. It’s simply another way to tell the same story. If you don’t like that medium or find it hard to follow, no problem. There are of course the traditional learners who still need to be catered to as well, but in accepting mediums that encompass more than one style, we open the door to more possibilities.

Anyway, that’s just my thoughts on the matter. Please feel free to leave a comment below whether you agree or disagree. I’d love to hear what everyone thinks.

 

Thanks friends,

Catch you on the flipside,

Jim

Readers,

Do you have a question about writing, publishing, my stories, etc? Please feel free to post a comment or email me.
jimthewritingwizard@gmail.com
I’ll use those comments to select my next blog post.

I have been writing for several years, have 4 published works, experience with publishing and independent work, so I can hopefully be of assistance.
Please note, I only do one of these a day and will do my best to respond to everyone, but it may take some time.

Also, feel free to check out my works of Fantasy and Historical Fiction, Available on Amazon and where ever books are sold. See the link below:

http://www.amazon.com/James-Harrington/e/B00P7FBXTU

Thanks friends!
Catch you on the flip side!

-Jim

+

+ Book, Comics, fantasy, Fiction, literature, Science Fiction, Urban Fantasy

Soul Siphon Chapter 1

by Unknown's avatar

Hi All,

Just wanted to give everyone a sample of my newest book:

I

“Nurse, what happened?”

“I don’t know, Doctor. He just started convulsing. We were monitoring him after his skin became discolored, and then he flat-lined.”

Corban McConnell felt his body slipping away and was powerless to stop it. He tried to scream, but Adramelech would not allow him enough control over his own muscles to do it. He was trapped in a cage in his own mind, one that he could not escape from. All he could do was sit and watch helplessly as the demon destroyed his world.

Corban could feel a burning sensation in his chest where the crucifix that his mother gave him used to reside. It had been removed when he had been committed, but the scar from where it had been remained. When Adramelech possessed him, it felt as though someone had cast the crucifix into a fireplace and allowed it to get red hot before placing it around his neck.

The blessed artifact had kept Adramelech at bay, but it eventually began to cause him pain. The doctors had long since removed it, fearing that he could use the chain to harm himself. It was the final nail in his proverbial coffin.

Corban had been cursed with the demon for almost a year and it had been slowly and painfully gnawing away at him. His stomach was so tight that he had not been able to eat much in months. He was emaciated and covered in scars from head to toe, his face bearing the worst of it. The demon had forced him to abuse himself and those around him in every way physically possible. He had been forced to alienate the ones he cared for the most for their own safety and allow himself to be locked away in a safe room at Mclean Hospital. He spent the last few weeks restrained to a hospital bed while doctors wired him with monitors and probes. His dark brown hair had been shaved down to little more than stubble to prevent him from ripping it out.

He was aware that his mental state was continuing to deteriorate. It would only be a matter of time until Adramelech gained full control and was able to cause his organs to rupture. He was soon transferred to Massachusetts General Hospital to deal with his injuries. He didn’t really have the consciousness to care about the difference of scenery. He was too busy fighting the entity within to even acknowledge the new doctors that were looking after him.

Corban wasn’t angry at them for his suffering, they were doing their best, but what he was dealing with, no medical science could save him from. There was nothing any mortal could do to stop Adramelech.

“Get me a defibrillator, STAT!”

Corban watched one of the nurses quickly pull a small cart over with a pair of pads resting on top of them. Another nurse began chest compressions while a third pumped oxygen into him with an ambu bag. The group ignored the sounds of the machines around them as they went to work in a futile attempt to save their patient’s life.

Doctor Morgan grabbed the pads and applied them to Corban’s chest, “Device charging now…”

The doctor waited a moment for the defibrillator to charge. Corban braced himself as he listened to the high-pitched sound of the electricity power up as the device came to life. When the indicator on the defibrillator turned red, the doctor returned his attention to Corban, “Everybody, clear!”

The surgical team backed away as the doctor began defibrillation, “200J…”

Corban’s lifeless body convulsed as the electricity flowed through it. Once the system turned off, the group began CPR again. Every alarm was still sounding off, indicating that he was still flat lined. The monitoring nurse shook her head as she checked Corban for any response, “No pulse.”

“What’s going on in there?”

Doctor Morgan had been with Corban since he was transferred. He knew that Doctor Morgan had read the report on the events surrounding Corban’s transfer and was sure that the whole case had him perplexed. The failed medical treatments which had both therapists and doctors alike baffled were bad enough, but then his psychological report also mentioned an exorcism that had somehow made his condition worse. He didn’t know if the doctor was a believer or not, but he somehow doubted it.

Adramelech had allowed him to live through each of these experiences while keeping him in a comatose state. He couldn’t react, speak, or move, but he could see and feel as that was all that the demon would allow. It was as close to Hell as he’d ever been.

Doctor Morgan’s voice appeared again as Corban tried to shut everything out, “Again, 200J.”

“Everybody, clear!”

It was the same as the previous attempt. Corban’s body convulsed, but did not respond. He was not coming out of it.

Finally, Doctor Morgan made the call to move him, “No good, get him to OR 2! Page the on call surgeon.”

The lead surgeon, Doctor Teach met Doctor Morgan in the surgical prep room as his team rushed to get Corban ready. He could hear them talking from the next room. Doctor Teach’s voice had a detectable level of concern, “Status?”

“We’ve been administering CPR since he flat lined.”

“How long?”

“Two minutes.”

“All right, once we’re in, let’s get him on the table.”

“Immediately, doctor.”

As Corban’s bed was wheeled into OR 2, the surgeon immediately went to work, prepping him for surgery. His body began to tremble as even more alarms went off. Doctor Teach knew that he was running out of time, “There’s blood coming out of his mouth. He’s most likely suffering from internal hemorrhaging. We need to get in there now or we’re going to lose him.”

Corban fought to regain some control and closed his eyes as he heard the machines nearby begin to beep in alarm. His head turned to the side and his world went completely blank. At that moment, all doubt was banished from his mind. Death was inevitable. Father… into your hands, I commend my spirit.

Adramelech cackled in the back of his mind, “He can’t save you now, no one can! You are mine and you always will be!”

You can’t have my soul, Adramelech. You’ve destroyed my body, but that’s all you’ll ever take. You… will lose!

“Small words… even the priest who tried to exorcise me failed and he is a man of faith. You have always been a man of doubt. What do you possibly think you can do now?”

In a desperate attempt to shut the demon out, Corban thought back to his last day with his girlfriend, Janine. He remembered how her long blonde hair blew in the breeze as she stepped out of his jeep. It was a very bittersweet memory.

The last few months of their relationship had been rocky. They both went to college in different places which put considerable strain on their relationship. In hindsight, that was probably a good thing for them both. Corban would not need to worry about her as much as she would have an easier time moving on. In his heart, he’d known that their relationship would not have survived more than a few months anyway.

A beep on the wall caused Corban to snap back into reality. He was back on the operating table in Mass General’s Division of Trauma. Though not conscious, he was fully aware of what was happening. Adramelech would not allow him to miss a minute of the pain. Even the medications that were being pumped through his body could not keep the demon at bay.

I’m sorry Janine, Corban thought to himself. I have to break my promise. I can’t be there anymore. I hope you have a wonderful life…

Adramelech cackled in his mind, “That’s it, let her go. There is no escape for you now. Let go of all you hold dear and submit.”

That’s what you think I’m doing? You’ve spent this much time in my head and you still have no clue.

“What other choice is there? It’ll only hurt more by holding onto them.”

But it keeps you from winning. Giving up what makes me who I am would be to submit to you.

You already have.

Not yet, just you watch.

Corban knew exactly what he had to do. He dreaded it, but knew that Adramelech would never let him be at peace as long as the demon lurked in his mind. As long as the demon was there, he would forever be a slave. He pulled together what little mental fortitude he had left and blocked out Adramelech one last time. He had regained control of his body just long enough to release himself. He had to act quickly as this was the only chance he’d get. Just one last push.

Corban appreciated everything that the doctors were doing, but he knew that his body was broken. Even if he wanted to remain, he knew that it was no longer an option. If he didn’t vacate, Adramelech would have a chance to regain control.

As Corban braced himself, he could feel the sense of nervousness in his mind. Adramelech reached out to him, “Wait… wait, if you try to cast me out, you’ll die too. We’ve become too intertwined for you to survive.”

I know that. I’m not trying to cast you out. I’m denying you your prize.

“You’ll lose everything.”

No other choice.

“There is always another choice.”

Not interested.

“Janine and your mother will be hurt.”

I know that…

“Wait, listen to me!”

No, I’m done with having you in my head! The game is over!

Adramelech cried out in panic, “No!”

Go back to Hell!

Corban braced himself for the coming shock to his system. No doubt it was going to be painful, but it couldn’t possibly be worse than what he had already experienced. He was spent and nothing that happened now was going to faze him.

At that moment, as the doctor worked, Corban’s eyes shot open and a look of distress appeared on his face, startling Doctor Morgan, “Is he sedated?”

The anesthesiologist eyed her panels and turned back to the surgeon, “Yes, he’s under general anesthesia and everything looks stable on my end. I don’t understand, what’s happening should not be possible!”

“Increase his dosage.”

“I can’t, it’s at the maximum. If I increase the dosage it could do irreparable damage!”

“Doctor…”

Before the surgeon could continue, Corban smiled at the lights above him. He was unable to speak with the tube down his throat, but he still managed to smile widely. The game is over, Adramelech! You’ve lost, now go back to Hell!

At that moment, Corban’s eyes closed forever. His body went pale. As his world blurred out, he could hear the screams of the scanners hooked up to his body, trying to find any sign of life. It sounded as though they were in a panic.

The surgical team went frantic as they went to work in an attempt to save his life. Yet even amidst the chaos, Corban was able to take solace in the fact that he had won. He had denied Adramelech his prize, but would now face the consequences for doing so.

An hour later, it was all over. The surgical team had done everything that they could, but his body was not responding. Doctor Teach lowered his eyes as he was finally forced to admit defeat, “He’s gone.”

As the group backed away from Corban’s body, Doctor Teach checked the clock on the wall, “Note the time of death, 8:53 PM.”

Doctor Morgan looked over the mess of equipment and blood, “All right, let’s get cleaned up here… I’ve got some bad news to deliver.”

The surgical team had lost patients before. It was something that came with the job, but it never got easier. There was nothing more they could do. As the nurses went to work clearing out the equipment, the surgeon braced himself to give Corban’s loved ones the bad news. As a high risk surgeon, he’d had to deliver this news before, and it was always the part of the job that he hated the most.

As they cleaned up, the anesthesiologist had a perplexed look on her face, “How could he have come out of that?”

Doctor Teach didn’t have an answer for her. He’d never seen anything like that before, “I have no idea. I can’t explain it, but he almost looked like he’d just won a fight.”

“Whatever it was… he actually seemed happy about it.”

Doctor Morgan left the OR, got cleaned up and headed out to the waiting room where Corban’s mother had been sitting with Janine for hours, waiting for news. It was late and the lights in the waiting room were dim. The lighting mixed with the plain colors of the walls provided anyone in the room a rather calm feeling. The dim light also provided the perfect vale for a pair of dark figures that stood in the corner, one male, and one female. Both were paying close attention to the scene that was about to unfold with Corban’s family. The male figure studied the facial expressions of Corban’s mother and Janine while the female one appeared to be completely disinterested. She preferred to hang back, leaning on the wall.

The quiet was quickly interrupted when doors to the OR slowly parted and the two doctors appeared at the entrance. The figures watched intently as Corban’s mother stood up with Janine holding her by the arm, “Well Doctor, did everything go okay? How is he? When can we see him?”

An apologetic look appeared on Doctor Morgan’s face as he shook his head, “I’m sorry…”

Corban’s mother went completely pale, “What? What are… no…”

Doctor Teach hesitantly took over, “I’m afraid he didn’t survive the procedure.”

The older woman looked away as tears streamed down her cheek, “Oh God… please not him. No… my baby…”

Janine’s eyes filled with tears, “No it can’t be true! He’s stronger than that… don’t you dare tell me he’s gone.”

Doctor Morgan opened his mouth to speak, knowing that nothing he could say would make this easier, but Janine cut him off, “Don’t you dare… he can’t be gone! It’s not true!”

Janine buried her head in her hands and sobbed as Corban’s mother looked up at Doctor Teach, tears continuing to flow from her eyes, “What happened?”

“I’m afraid we don’t really know, we were working to repair the hemorrhage and he was responding really well, but then he suddenly regained consciousness. He looked up with a big smile on his face, and then became lifeless. We have no idea how it happened. Our instruments were finely tuned before the procedure and our anesthesiologist double checked just to make sure. All attempts to resuscitate him failed. It’s like he didn’t want to be brought back.”

The female figure stepped forward and studied Corban’s mother. Though she still looked pale and was about to get sick, a small feeling of relief comforted her as she realized what had happened. She was barely able to speak and her words were little more than a whisper, but everyone was able to hear her, “He beat it… it cost him his life, but he freed himself of that… thing inside of him.”

Doctor Teach rubbed his hands together gently as spoke to Corban’s mother, “I’m really sorry that everything turned out this way. We do have on-sight counselors that are trained to help your loss… I could arrange for one to come by if you’d like to speak with them?”

Grief counselors. The female figure thought to herself. As if they’d do any good here.

“Mary, watch the younger woman.” The male figure said quietly to the female. “She’d known Corban since childhood and loved him for almost that long. Their relationship may have been on the rocks, but she still cared deeply for him.”

Mary moved closer, while careful to remain in the shadows, “Why all this interest in her, Mike?”

“I’ll explain later, for now she’s our best bet to learn more about Corban.”

From her vantage point, Mary could see Janine’s face. Though in pain herself, Janine was doing the best she could to comfort Corban’s mother and remain strong. She hugged the older woman and rubbed her arms, knowing that as bad as she felt, his mother had lost the last of her family.

Mary watched as Janine turned to the doctor. She was about to say something when Corban’s mother finally fought through her own pain and spoke up, “Did he suffer?”

It looked like Doctor Morgan was doing the best he could to sound certain, but the quiver in his voice made his words harder to believe, “No, I don’t believe so. He was heavily sedated, so it’s unlikely that he felt anything. As for the rest… well his suffering is over now.”

“He doesn’t know that.” Mary scoffed. “How could he?”

“Shh!” Mike scolded, trying to listen in.

Mary noticed a smile appear on his face as Corban’s mother collapsed back into Janine’s arms, “There was a lot of fight in that one. A lot of fight… this is very interesting.”

“It’s not every mortal human that can stand up to a demon as fierce as Adramelech.” Mary agreed. “Still, I think this is a really bad idea. He’s a possession victim. You remember what’s happened every other time, yeah?”

“This time will be different, I can feel it. Yes, I think he’ll do nicely.”

“You really came out of nowhere after four months of hiding to show me this? Did I really have to be here?”

“Yes. You’ve been with me the longest. I want your opinion.”

“Is that really what you want, or do you just want to hear me agree with you?”

“When has that ever happened?”

“Rarely.”

“So?”

Mary sighed, she knew that he was going to do whatever he wanted regardless of what she said, but at least she could voice her concerns, “He’s defiant, yeah? Short-sighted, and extremely jovial with the people around him. Those aren’t the qualities we need. Not to mention his powers could be dangerous! We have no idea what he’ll become!”

“I seem to recall thinking the same thing about you when I first pieced you back together, but you assured me that you wouldn’t disappoint, and in over a hundred years, you never have.”

“That’s different.”

“Is it really?”

Mary did not respond. She lowered her eyes and returned to her corner, defeated. Nothing she said was going to change Mike’s mind.

Mike’s smile widened as he turned his attention back to Corban’s family, “Yes… Yes I think he’ll do perfectly.”

Hope you enjoyed the first chapter. The rest of the book can be purchased here.

  • Series: The Vengeance Doctrine
  • Paperback: 520 pages
  • Publisher: James Harrington (April 7, 2016)
  • Language: English
  • ISBN-10: 0692608443
  • ISBN-13: 978-0692608449

Readers,

Do you have a question about writing, publishing, my stories, etc? Please feel free to post a comment or email me.
jimthewritingwizard@gmail.com
I’ll use those comments to select my next blog post.

I have been writing for several years, have 4 published works, experience with publishing and independent work, so I can hopefully be of assistance.
Please note, I only do one of these a day and will do my best to respond to everyone, but it may take some time.

Also, feel free to check out my works of Fantasy and Historical Fiction, Available on Amazon and where ever books are sold. See the link below:

http://www.amazon.com/James-Harrington/e/B00P7FBXTU

Thanks friends!
Catch you on the flip side!

-Jim

+

+ fantasy, Movie, Opinion, Science Fiction, Star Wars

Please, please, please, Rey Skywalker!!!

by Unknown's avatar

So after due consideration, I am flip-flopping faster than John Kerry! I no longer hope that Rey is a Palpatine. I am praying big time that she is the Skywalker we all think she is. Why?

 

Well it may be obvious, but it’s what really should be. The prime Star Wars stories all surround the Skywalkers, all the evidence points to her being a Skywalker… but beyond that, my reasons are very simple:
THE POTENTIAL CANONIZATION OF TWO OF MY FAVORITE JEDI:

Jedi 1: Mara Jade Skywalker12985391_1107081022688440_7056443068501184153_n

Why I want her to exist: Um… because she’s badass? Former Emperor’s hand, aggressive, noble, and just a really beloved character in the Star Wars Universe. The best books in the entire series involved her. She was a sort of counterbalance to Luke and it worked really well.

Why she can’t exist if Rey isn’t a Skywalker: Well… I suppose that there’s no rule against it. Though I get the feeling that if she’s not a Skywalker, that means that Disney decided to keep with the ‘tradition’ that Jedi do not marry… and Luke is to be the last of the Skywalkers.

Any Downside?
Aside from some serious recon? Well…skywalker-kenobi-or-solo-who-is-rey-s-father-luke-at-what-appears-to-be-a-tomb-stone-780920

Yeah pretty much. If she is to be canonized, it will most likely be well after  her death. Meaning that she’ll only appear in flashbacks… if we’re lucky.

Jedi 2: Celeste Morne
Able-Celeste-Karness

Why? 
… Do I even need to answer that? She is my favorite Jedi in the series. She’s incredibly badass, she has the power to transform the entire crew of a Star Destroyer into horrible monsters and she has a martyr complex. She sacrificed herself to a life of isolation in order to keep one of the most dangerous Sith lords ever imprisoned in her own mind. She existed this way for thousands of years, teetering between the light and the dark, completely alone in her struggles.

Why she can’t exist if Rey isn’t a Skywalker: The door to the KOTOR universe being canonized has already been opened with the confirmed existence of Malachor. So the potential is already there. However, in more modern times… no Rey Skywalker means no future Skywalkers… which means no Cade Skywalker. Without Cade, her story can’t come to a conclusion.

Any thoughts? Anyone else we’d like to see canonized? Let me know!

Readers,

Do you have a question about writing, publishing, my stories, etc? Please feel free to post a comment or email me.
jimthewritingwizard@gmail.com
I’ll use those comments to select my next blog post.

I have been writing for several years, have 4 published works, experience with publishing and independent work, so I can hopefully be of assistance.
Please note, I only do one of these a day and will do my best to respond to everyone, but it may take some time.

Also, feel free to check out my works of Fantasy and Historical Fiction, Available on Amazon and where ever books are sold. See the link below:

http://www.amazon.com/James-Harrington/e/B00P7FBXTU

Thanks friends!
Catch you on the flip side!

-Jim

+

+ Author, Book, Characters, fantasy, Fiction, literature, Urban Fantasy

Character Interview: Mary Jane Kelly

by Unknown's avatar

Hello all and welcome, once again, to ‘Character Interview.’ Today, we’ve got a very special… guest… actually the studio kind of forced this one on me. I guess that I should be thankful that the security at the door relieved her of all of her weapons. At least I hope they did… Anyway, ladies and gentlemen, Mary Jane Kelly.

Mary: Wait… what’s going on here? I thought I was going on a mission and the next thing I know, I’m frisked at the door and get all my blades taken away by a pair of burley fellows with extremely grabby hands! -Look boys, next one of you who tries to touch me will lose a hand, and it will be a lot more messy without my blades!

: Okay… well… Thank you for coming Mary, you’re here today to do an interview. I thought you were made aware of that backstage?

Mary: An… interview for what?

: For ‘Character Interviews’ we do this every once in a while to give your potential readers an idea of what to expect.

Mary: MY potential readers? What the f*** you are you talking about?

: Perhaps we can talk about that after the interview?

Mary: No, we’ll talk about it now!

: Okay, Mary, you’re a character in a story. Your story was recently published and we’re trying to get the word out about this. With your help, we can get your story told. If not… well then you may remain in the pages of a book.

Mary: Right… um… okay… been hitting the pub a little too much lately, have we?

: It’s up to you.

Mary: (Sigh) All right, fine… what the hell. I’ve already been felt up by your boys at the door. Might as well get some attention out of it. Just don’t expect me to get too personal.

:Wouldn’t dream of it. So, shall we get started?

Mary: Why not?

:Excellent, thank you! So Mary why don’t you tell us about yourself.

Mary: (Shrugs) I’m an Irish girl, I was murdered, resurrected and now I go around killing people. Lot’s of layers to me, yeah?

: Okay… anything else?

Mary: Listen buddy, if what you said really is true, and I don’t believe you for a second, but if it is, wouldn’t that amount to a little something called a spoiler?

: I stand corrected. All right then let’s focus on your job, what kind of people do you kill?

Mary: All kinds of people. I specialize in the evil. You know; the murderers, the rapists, the thieves, the liars, the adulterers, and the betrayers.

: I see… so what drives you to do such a thing?

Mary: Someone has to.

: What about the law?

Mary: What about it?

: Well… don’t these people deserve due process? Shouldn’t they be allowed to exercise their rights? What about the law of the land?

Mary: It really is all that simple to you people, yeah? Is that really justice, or is it a futile process that leaves the victims even more scarred and the bad guys with three square meals a day and most likely back on the streets within a few years? Think about it. You catch one of these bad guys and bring them to justice… what then? The laws of man are flawed and usually based off of ancient mythology and misguided values, or the whims of a select few who are typically detached from every day society. Consider what would have happened if the prosecutor wasn’t competent, or if the evidence were to be tampered with. What if witnesses were not reliable or the judge had a political agenda? What then?

: Well those things happen, but I can’t believe that it’s as common as you seem to think. I mean what about the notion that only God can judge?

Mary: You’re pretty naive, yeah? It’s nice to see that there are still some true believers in the world, but reality just doesn’t weigh that out. It happens more than you think. As for God… he had his chance, now it’s my turn?

: What about the idea that someone could forgiven? You’re killing these people without giving them a chance to repent and try to make up for what they did. How is that right?

Mary: Watch it, buddy! You take a look a little girl banged up and bruised to the point of being comatose because she said the wrong thing to a drugged up parent, THEN WE’LL TALK!!

: … I apologize. It’s not my place to judge I suppose. So is that all you do, hunt people down and make them pay for their crimes?

Mary: No that’s not all. I own a muscle car that I thoroughly enjoy driving around in. I also like a quiet night with a bottle of absinthe.

: Absinthe, huh? That’s pretty strong stuff.

Mary: Best in the business. I’ve still got a few bottles from my time in England.

: I thought you were Irish?

Mary: I am, but I moved to England for a while.

: How long did you stay there?

Mary: I’d rather not talk about my time in England, if you don’t mind. It’s… painful.

: Fair enough, so I understand you’re part of a team that goes out and seeks vengeance. Apparently each of you has different powers. What are yours?

Mary: Our powers are linked to the way we… well let’s just say that I’m the team assassin. I’m able to hide in the shadows, move super fast, and take out the bad guys with precision.

: Oh? what’s your weapon of choice?

Mary: I carry a small revolver on me at all times, but I never use it. I’m a blade girl. kodachis, daggers, machetes… pretty much anything sharp.

: I see. So anything else you’d like to tell us? Do you have any friends or family?

Mary: My team are my friends. That’s all.

: I see… well this is turning out to be quite an interesting interview. Unfortunately, we’re out of time. So thank you very much for taking the time to talk to us.

Mary: Eh… whatever.

: See you all next time!

Readers,

Do you have a question about writing, publishing, my stories, etc? Please feel free to post a comment or email me.
jimthewritingwizard@gmail.com
I’ll use those comments to select my next blog post.

I have been writing for several years, have 4 published works, experience with publishing and independent work, so I can hopefully be of assistance.
Please note, I only do one of these a day and will do my best to respond to everyone, but it may take some time.

Also, feel free to check out my works of Fantasy and Historical Fiction, Available on Amazon and where ever books are sold. See the link below:

http://www.amazon.com/James-Harrington/e/B00P7FBXTU

Thanks friends!
Catch you on the flip side!

-Jim

+

+ Book, fantasy, Fiction, literature, Science Fiction, Urban Fantasy, Writing

Soul Siphon, Book 1 of the Vengeace Doctrine

by Unknown's avatar

Soul Siphon is officially released and available for purchase! Check out the adventures of this brand new team as they embark on their first journey together, fighting evil both on their own world, and throughout existence!

Book Stats:

ISBN: 978-0692608449
First Printing: April 2016
Cover Art:
Jabari Weathers
Editing:
Meghan Harrington
Eric Klingenberg
Copyright © 2016, James Harrington
Illustration © 2016, Jabari Weathers
Printed and Bound in the USA

Genre: Dark Fantasy
Pages: 520
Chapters: 33
Cast:
Corban McConnell (Protagonist)
Mary Jane Kelly (Protagonist)
Johnny Tremane
Vladimir Pietrov
Lihua Lin
Saint Michael
Adramelech/Moloch
As well as a mystery character that only people who have read my other work will recognize. I’ll leave that as a surprise.

Synopsis:
A starved child, an assassinated soviet soldier, a woman abandoned on the streets of Hong Kong, a victim of history’s most mysterious killer, and a young man who never asked to be thrown into the middle of a spiritual war.

They reside in the shadows and other dark places, waiting for those who would inflict pain and suffering on the innocent. An unlikely group, with one thing in common; death. Each with powers that reflect the way they died. Corban found himself thrust into the fray with this group of anti-heroes. Cursed with unstable powers stemming from a fatal demonic possession, Corban must unravel the mystery behind his death. As more information comes to light, Corban begins to realize that nothing in his life was what it appeared to be and the price of victory may be his own soul.

Purchase here on Amazon, or at your local book store!!!

Readers,

Do you have a question about writing, publishing, my stories, etc? Please feel free to post a comment or email me.
jimthewritingwizard@gmail.com
I’ll use those comments to select my next blog post.

I have been writing for several years, have 4 published works, experience with publishing and independent work, so I can hopefully be of assistance.
Please note, I only do one of these a day and will do my best to respond to everyone, but it may take some time.

Also, feel free to check out my works of Fantasy and Historical Fiction, Available on Amazon and where ever books are sold. See the link below:

http://www.amazon.com/James-Harrington/e/B00P7FBXTU

Thanks friends!
Catch you on the flip side!

-Jim

+

+ Book, fantasy, Fiction, literature, Reading, Uncategorized, Urban Fantasy, Writing

Soul Siphon Update

by Unknown's avatar

I seem to write these messages every time I publish a new book… but it appears that I’m going to have to disappoint my readers and for that I apologize.

Soul Siphon’s release will be pushed back a week. At the latest, it will be released on 4/11, but we’re hoping to have it out a few days before that. Keep an eye on my page, I’ll post updates as I get them, but at this point, I can’t approve the book until I’ve seen the final physical copy which is still en-route to me. So again, I do apologize to all my readers out there. You will have Soul Siphon before you know it, but better to delay it now than release a substandard product, yes?

Book Stats:
Genre: Dark Fantasy
Pages: 520
Chapters: 33
Cast:
Corban McConnell (Protagonist)
Mary Jane Kelly (Protagonist)
Johnny Tremane
Vladimir Pietrov
Lihua Lin
Saint Michael
Adramelech/Moloch
as well as a mystery character that only people who have read my other work will recognize. I’ll leave that as a surprise.

Synopsis:

A starved child, an assassinated soviet soldier, a woman abandoned on the streets of Hong Kong, a victim of history’s most mysterious killer, and a young man who never asked to be thrown into the middle of a spiritual war.

They reside in the shadows and other dark places, waiting for those who would inflict pain and suffering on the innocent. An unlikely group, with one thing in common; death. Each with powers that reflect the way they died. Corban found himself thrust into the fray with this group of anti-heroes. Cursed with unstable powers stemming from a fatal demonic possession, Corban must unravel the mystery behind his death. As more information comes to light, Corban begins to realize that nothing in his life was what it appeared to be and the price of victory may be his own soul.

Readers,

Do you have a question about writing, publishing, my stories, etc? Please feel free to post a comment or email me.
jimthewritingwizard@gmail.com
I’ll use those comments to select my next blog post.

I have been writing for several years, have 4 published works, experience with publishing and independent work, so I can hopefully be of assistance.
Please note, I only do one of these a day and will do my best to respond to everyone, but it may take some time.

Also, feel free to check out my works of Fantasy and Historical Fiction, Available on Amazon and where ever books are sold. See the link below:

http://www.amazon.com/James-Harrington/e/B00P7FBXTU

Thanks friends!
Catch you on the flip side!

-Jim

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