Wednesday, September 30, 2009

DRUID DERRICK - incomplete - my current obsession

Sam looked at the boy’s fearless eyes. Though he’d been able to subdue Pat and scare Mariah, he hadn’t made the slightest chip in this boy’s confidence. That, as nothing else, reminded him of the man he’d seen in the mountains, the same man he’d had nightmares about for two years now. He couldn’t fathom the connection; the nightmares had come before the possible sighting and that sighting had been a nightmare in and of itself. This boy looked like that man - a lot - but surely, this boy couldn’t be that man; it just wasn’t possible. “How about we take the fight outside then,” he said his eyes narrowing.

Derrick stood. “Fine.” He snatched up his staff and strode out the front door before Pat could object and the three men followed. Half way across the yard, Derrick turned with his staff at the ready. Sam and his men spread out around him.

“We’re not armed,” said Sam. “It wouldn’t be fair for you to be armed with that big stick. Why don’t you use your new sword?”

“My sword is sharp,” said Derrick. “I might cut you . . . or even kill you with it. Course I might kill you with my staff too; is that acceptable?”

They all laughed - three grown men against one collage kid dressed in cheap armor and he was talking about killing and asking if that was okay - what a crock.

“How about we even the odds a little?” said Sam and they all drew their preferred handgun.

“Three pistols against a wooden staff, a sword and a dagger,” commented Derrick. “I guess I’ll have to be very good at all of them, won’t I?”

“Is death still acceptable to you?” asked Mick.

“To the death then, and no mercy,” replied Derrick as he crouched.

Tom started to back out. “I’m not playing this game.”

Sam, however, wouldn’t hear of it. “You will stand your ground and fight this little twerp or I’ll kill you myself.”

Tom froze and then returned to his place.

“Woohoo,” crowed Mick and he leveled his pistol and started firing.

Derrick wasn’t to be found downrange. Even though they were less than twenty feet apart, Mick found tracking Derrick to be far more difficult than he had anticipated. Then Sam started firing as well. Derrick managed to land one hard blow on Mick with his staff before it was shot out of his hand but before Mick had even hit the ground - dead or not, Derrick didn’t care - he drew his knife and buried it in his heart as he passed over him in a long summersault.

With Sam’s bullets passing over him, Tom dove for the ground. Derrick rolled over him and dealt out a hard backhand to the side of his head, laying him out senseless in passing, then he rose to his feet drawing his sword in one fluid move.

Tom dropped his clip and slapped another one in place just as Derrick reached his feet. He managed to get off three more rounds before his gun hand was severed from his body, and then, before he could even gasp, that blade was screaming through the cold air directly for his neck.

Friday, September 25, 2009


What would you do if you found yourself in a position where the welfare of millions is thrust into your hands? Foster wasn’t accustomed to looking after the welfare of anyone. His concern was keeping his ship in one piece - the crew that rode with him was simply collateral. And yet he finds himself in just such a situation when he is handed new orders and directed toward a fine new ship.

With war being a way of life, there was the warrior class and then there were the peasants who supported them. Peasants never became warriors unless they passed rigorous tests or were exceptionally gifted. Young Foster was all that and yet his birth as a peasant haunted him, hindering him from achieving the advancement those born to warrior class could get. Nonetheless, he became a top pilot and was picked for a dangerous mission - a secret mission - a mission kept secret even from the pilot. It wasn't until far too late that Foster discovered that his ship did not contain the expected crew of officers, engineers and gunners. Instead, aside from himself and his cockpit, the entire rest of his ship was filled with the hope of a new beginning on a new world and his involvement in the only life he knew had ended.


Ripped from the life she expected to have, Princess Anella must learn how to lead a very different life when her estranged uncle returned home and killed all the male members of her family.  Who knows what he did to the women.  Through THE TRIALS OF THE YOUNGEST PRINCESS she must find the courage to take control of her life and make the necessary changes to succeed.

As the youngest of five children born to the benevolent and much loved king and queen, Anella is resigned to her position in life.  At the age of six, her father betroths her to the youngest son of a distant cousin purely for political reasons and when she marries at eighteen, she will run his house, if he has his own house, or manage his apartments, if he remains under his father’s roof.  Her standing as the king’s daughter will have little meaning beyond her title.

When she was allowed to attend the midsummer tournament, she discovered a distraction from the doldrums of her life.  Though she wasn’t allowed to read the stories of glorious battles kept in the palace library, after watching the jousting and the sword-fighting contests, she could imagine them.  One day she decided to see what a sword felt like and snuck down to the arms room to do a little pretending with a real sword in her hand and she couldn’t stay away.

When the sword master discovered her doings, he agreed to teach her but only with the understanding that it would never go beyond the practice room, not by word or by deed.  But when an estranged uncle appeared and killed her father and her brothers, she and the sword master were forced to take her teaching far beyond the practice room.  In order to exact revenge for the horrible way her father and brothers were murdered, Anella had to become very good with a sword and then she had to draw on all the ties her family had.  But she couldn’t just go to these families with a plea for help; she was a much-hunted young lady.  The only thing she could do was enter the tournament lists and follow the entire circuit around the country, competing at each district and meeting in secret those lords who were obliged to back her claim to the throne and overthrow the usurper, plus, if she was good enough, if she placed high enough, she would get a personal invitation to stand in front of the man himself.

Tuesday, September 22, 2009


At first, I thought it would be a good idea to share my synopses - I have 11 unpublished stories that I would love to share somehow. However, it has occurred to me that they are too long for front page posts. I guess I'll have to think of something else. I'll learn this site and all its offerings soon enough. Any suggestions would be most welcome.

Tuesday, September 15, 2009

Very First Post

Since this is my very first post in my very first blog, I suppose I should talk about my very first book, now published.


The world has come apart - the moon and it's destroyer have come crashing down - but some people survived - some people always survive. They survived the destruction. They survived the resulting ice age. And most importantly, they survived to regroup and start building societies once again.

The glaciers are receding and the ground is fertile once again thus allowing my story to begin. However, there are always good people and bad people, and there will always be legends and fairytales. Will the bad people be able to withstand when good people unite with legends and fairytales? Who can say. And what might happen if Mother Nature takes a personal interest in the happenings of one young man who steps into the legends?

Read some pages on Google books
Buy the book on Amazon and read the whole thing.

Above all