Deliverers 3 Preview

I thought I would kick off this week with a preview of the third book in the Deliverers series which will be out by March. The book is titled The Golden Dragon of Ang. So, without further ado, here;s part of chapter 1.

The Golden Dragon of Ang

Chapter 1--Dark Times

            Numb. That’s all he felt. He sat there in the pew, the words of the priest flowing over and past him, none of them sinking in. Just like when his mother had told him the news. Just like when his father had died.

            He’d been through it all before. He never thought he’d have to go through it again so soon—too soon.

            Eric Scott shook himself, trying to snap back to the here and now. It did not seem possible. His mind kept straying to the day before yesterday, the day Gordy was killed. There had been a car accident. Eric’s cousin, Gordy Bungee, and his family had been coming back from their summer vacation when their SUV had been sideswiped by another vehicle that had drifted into their lane.

            Their car had flipped over the guard rail and down an embankment. Eric’s uncle Rocco, his aunt Matilda and his cousin Jeff had escaped with minor cuts and bruises. Gordy had not been as lucky.

            So now, just three years after his father had died in a hiking accident, Eric found himself at a funeral for another family member who had died much too young.

            He had not been particularly close to Gordy until this year. For one thing, at 13 Eric was two years younger than him. He had always been closer to Jeff, who was his own age.

            Still, all three had spent a lot of time together over the past year or so. Although he could be a real jerk sometimes, it had been Gordy who had encouraged him to keep playing hockey after he had been ready to quit.

            After a nearly fatal first practice where he almost got his head knocked off, Eric had vowed never to play again. Gordy would not stand for that, and became almost like a personal coach to him. He helped Eric learn to really skate, develop his stick work and his awareness on the ice. By the end of the season, he was no longer an embarrassment. Eric had been looking forward to playing again this winter, but now…

            The service was concluding and everyone stood to go to their cars and drive to the cemetery. Then there would be a gathering at his house. His mom had offered to host it. Great. No chance to slip off home and leave the sadness and gloom behind.

            What had Gordy done to deserve this? The same thing my dad did, he thought, nothing. Why did this kind of stuff have to happen? And why was it happening to his family?

            He did not have any answers, and that frustrated him.

###

            It was dark. Eric could not see anything. Suddenly, a sickly green light illuminated the room. It was

empty except for a group of people in the center. They were gathered around something that he could not make out. As he came closer, he recognized his mother, his uncle Rocco, aunt Matilda and Jeff among other friends and relatives. They were weeping over the object, which Eric now recognized as a coffin.

            A black sparkling mist leaked out from under the lid, trickled down the sides and spread out across the floor, obscuring everyone’s feet. It crawled along the ground toward him. It chilled him as it engulfed his shoes and his body tingled all over. A feeling of dread crept over him.

With a creak the lid of the coffin was slowly opened from the inside by a skeletal hand. Eric tensed, not knowing what to expect. The coffin’s occupant sat bolt upright, and Eric gasped.

It was a corpse. Rotting flesh revealed glimpses of the skeleton beneath. Its head turned to Eric and regarded him with worm-riddled eyes. The zombie’s decaying lips drew back from yellowed teeth in a cruel smile that both repulsed and intrigued him. There was something familiar about this unholy creature.

“Hello Eric, so nice to see you again,” it rasped. “I trust the Assignment in Vynistra City had a satisfactory conclusion.”

That voice, it sounded like…”Selango,” Eric whispered.

The zombie smiled wider, and part of its left ear fell off.

“Ah, it’s good that you know me,” Selango said. “So often people are forgotten after they’ve died. I was worried that you might not remember, but I knew that you could not be so cold and heartless.”

Eric looked at the people crowded around the coffin, all of whom were still sobbing, seemingly oblivious to the grisly specter.

“What are you doing here?”

“For starters, I’m dead. I can be wherever I want. But the real reason I am here is to give you my condolences. A terribly tragic loss—he was too young to die so senselessly. And to think that it all could have been avoided. I don’t want you to blame yourself. It wasn’t your fault, not really.”

“What wasn’t my fault?” Eric asked.

“Your cousin’s death,” Selango said.

“It wasn’t my fault. I didn’t have anything to do with it.”

“No, that’s true. You did not cause the accident, but you could have prevented it”

“What?” Eric could not believe it. “How could I have done that?”

The zombie Selango shook its head. “If you had only accepted my offer, this whole tragedy might never have happened.”

“Your offer? What offer?”

“Think my boy. Think back to that distasteful chain of events in Vynistra City. You and your friends had me locked up in that cell with all the other riff-raff. I offered you the chance of a lifetime. My freedom for the most powerful weapon ever created. You turned me down. And now your cousin lies dead.”

“I don’t see what that has to do with it,” Eric frowned.

“The mist! Did I not say it was a source of unimagined power? If you had heeded me, I would have

shown you how to mold it, shape it, use it to achieve your heart’s desire. With it you could have done anything—prevented that accident or brought your cousin back to life.”

Eric glanced down at the mist swirling around his feet, then back at Selango. “Dad,” he murmured.

“Yes, you could have brought him back, too,” Selango said, nodding sadly. “Ah well, the road of life is littered with missed opportunities. Still, it is a shame. What did you gain by denying me, anyway? Freedom for some mongrel cat people you’ll probably never see again. Was it really worth all this pain and anguish?”

The zombie gestured at the people around the coffin. They were looking at Eric with a mixture of rage and contempt. They began marching, arms outstretched, toward him.

“Your fault, your fault!” they cried.

“I want my son!” his aunt screeched.

“My husband, I miss my husband!” his mother wailed.

The crowd was closing in, ready to overwhelm him. Eric covered his head with his arms as the zombie Selango cackled and the sparkling mist rose to blind him.

Sneak Peek 2

At the end of last month, I gave you a sneak peek of the first part of chapter one of The Deliverers 2: Order of the Crystal Lion. Today, since I've completed the final edits on the book and submitted it to be laid out, I thought I'd share the rest of the chapter with you. Enjoy! By the way, here's the blurb that will be on the back cover of the book:

Who will fight—for the Order, for freedom?

For centuries, the Vynistri have been adding lion DNA to their servants, the Chazum, using a device they call the Machine. Now an army of Chazum and sympathetic Vynistri are waging a bloody civil war to overthrow the Vynistri’s evil ruler, Chancellor Trelango. In their latest Assignment, the Deliverers—Eric Scott, Stig the owl, Kate Endria and Hallo Tosis the dwarf—are charged with putting an end to the fighting and restoring balance to the world. Aided by a secret society called the Order of the Crystal Lion, Eric and the rest of the Deliverers must overcome tragedy and loss to fight for freedom and equality. Spurring them on is the Order’s belief that the long awaited Crystal Lion has arrived to deliver the world. Is this true, or will Trelango destroy them all?

The Deliverers 2: Order of the Crystal Lion

Chapter 1 Part 2

When he arrived home, he dragged his equipment past his mother without a word, into his room, and flung himself on his bed.

He stared up at the ceiling, and rubbed his eyes with his hand. His eyes blinked a couple of times, then closed.

Tap, tap. Tap.

Eric’s eyes opened. What was that? He sat up and looked around, but did not see anything.

Tap, tap. Tap.

There it was again. Where was it coming from? Eric got up.

Tap, tap. Tap.

It sounded like it was coming from the window. Eric went over to it and looked out. There, perched on a bush, sat a large white owl.

With a shout, Eric opened the window. The owl flew into the room and landed on the bed. “What took you so long? I was starting to get cold,” the owl said.

“Sorry Stig. I couldn’t figure out what that tapping sound was for a minute.”

“Well, well, not to worry. I wasn’t really all that cold. Feathers really make marvelous insulation.”

“I guess they would,” Eric said.

“So, how have you been my boy?”

“Oh, okay, I guess. Things have been a little strange. My mom’s getting a little freaky. She’s making me hang out with my cousins.”

“Splendid, splendid. It’s good to see that she’s encouraging you to get out a little bit.”

“But my cousins aren’t really into the same stuff as me,” Eric explained.

“Well, but one cannot be afraid to try new things. Otherwise, you never would have accompanied me on your first Assignment,” Stig said. “Don’t you agree?”

“Oh, um, I suppose. But don’t you think…” Eric paused.

“Don’t I think, what?” Stig asked.

“Never mind. So what brings you here?”

“Ah yes. What indeed.” Stig ruffled his feathers and moved a little closer to Eric. “The Gatekeeper has need of us.”

A thrill of excitement coursed through Eric. The Gatekeeper had sent Eric on his first Assignment that past summer to save a small fishing village called Calendria from an evil band of pirates. “You mean, he wants to send us on another Assignment?”

“Quite so,” Stig said. “Everyone else has been assembled, and I was sent to pick you up, that is, if you are up for it?”

“You bet! Let’s go!” Eric said. He was up and headed for his bedroom door, then stopped short and turned to Stig. “Did you say that everyone else has been assembled?”

“Yes, yes I did,” Stig replied, a knowing glint in his golden eyes.

“So, it’s not just us that are being sent on the Assignment.”

“Oh no, this looks to be quite a big job, so the Gatekeeper thought reinforcements might be needed on this one.”

“Reinforcements, so, like, who?” Eric asked, although he hoped he knew the answer.

“Why, Kate and Hallo, of course,” the owl replied. “I thought you might have guessed. I did tell you that your paths might cross again one day.”

“Awesome!” Eric said, pumping his fist in the air. “I was kind of hoping they’d be coming. This is going to be so cool. It’ll be just like the last time, better even! We’re all going on an Assignment. Sweet!”

“Well, yes, I’m glad you’re excited. I must admit that I am rather excited myself,” Stig said. “But remember that each Assignment is very serious, not a romp in the park. You may recall your first Assignment fondly, and I daresay I do as well, but it was not without its dangers and trials, if you recall. Assignments are perilous things.

“You should also know that nothing stays the same. Circumstances and people change. You’ve changed, too, if I’m not totally mistaken.”

Monday Sneak Peek

Today, I thought I'd give you a sneak peek at the first chapter of my next book, The Deliverers 2: Order of the Crystal Lion. It's my hope that the book will be released sometime in March, but it might be a little later than that, depending on art and layout.

This is the first part of the chapter. I'll share the rest of it in a future post. There might be a few edits still to be made, but I don't anticipate any major changes at this point. So, without further ado, here's the beginning of chapter one. Please let me know what you think. Enjoy!

The Deliverers 2: Order of the Crystal Lion

Chapter 1--Back in the Saddle Again

            Bam! Eric Scott’s face was smashed into the Plexiglas that ringed the skating rink.

            “Hey, where’d you learn to play hockey, Dork Magazine?” the larger of the two boys who had run into him said.

            Eric glared at them. They were his cousins, Jeff and Gordy Bungee, and they had been playing hockey almost since they could walk. Eric, on the other hand, could barely skate.

            “Oh yeah? I’d rather be reading than banging into walls!”

             “All right, enough jawing, ladies!” a dark haired, heavyset man yelled from behind the bench. “Let’s get back to practice! Eric, come here.”

            Eric skated over to the bench. The big man leaned over the railing.

            “Eric, what’re you thinking? You can’t let anyone check you like that. You’ve gotta be tough. When someone tries to check you into the boards, give them an elbow or something. Let them know you won’t take that kind of stuff. Now get back out there, and don’t let me see you getting pushed around anymore.”

            “Okay, Uncle Rocco,” Eric said. What did he want him to do, he thought, beat them over the head with his stick? He could barely stand in these stupid skates.

            His Uncle Rocco was coach of his cousins’ hockey team, the Slayers. He did not like hockey, really, but his mother had asked his uncle to add him to the team. She thought he needed more of a male influence. He’d been without one since his father had died more than a year and a half ago.

            Now, he skated unsteadily out to center ice, where the other boys were working on their passing.

            Eric tried to get into the drill, but when someone passed him the puck, it either went under his stick or he sent it in the opposite direction of where he wanted it to go.

            “Why am I doing this?” Eric muttered, as yet another pass skidded under his stick and slid down to the far end of the ice.

            “C’mon Eric!” Uncle Rocco yelled. “Head up, stick down!”

            Eric sighed as he slowly skated to retrieve the puck. He was bowled over by Gordy, who beat him to it.

            “Enough with the drills, let’s scrimmage!” Gordy yelled.

            “All right,” Uncle Rocco called back. “Let’s see what you boys‘ve got. Starters versus scrubs!”

            Gordy and Jeff were starters, and skated to one side of the ice. Eric made his way to join the scrubs on the other side.

            Gordy waited for the faceoff across from a smaller, skinnier boy. All of the scrubs were on the scrawny side, Eric noted, including himself. When Uncle Rocco dropped the puck, Gordy was on it like a flash, sending a perfect pass over to Jeff, who was streaking down ice. Eric, following him on the wing, tried his best to keep up with him. But after a few seconds, his heavy breathing had fogged up his face shield, and he could not see a thing.

            Man, how embarrassing, he thought as he tried to see through the fog. His attempts to see were unsuccessful, and he slammed into the boards.

            “No, no, no!” He heard Uncle Rocco scream. “What’s the matter with you, Eric? Are you blind?”

            “Yeah, kinda,” he said, pulling off his bulky hockey glove and running his bare hand across the inside of his visor to clear it.

            Just at that moment, something hit him in the head. Looking down, he saw the puck laying a couple of feet away from him on the ice. Excited, he turned toward it—and was slammed headfirst into the boards by Jeff.

            He lay there on the ice, feeling like a rag doll. Lifting his head slightly, he saw Uncle Rocco standing over him, flanked by his two cousins. His uncle was shaking his head. Then, Eric blacked out.

           

                                      #                                  #                                  #

            Eric was still a bit lightheaded on the trip home in his uncle’s SUV. Luckily, his helmet had absorbed most of the impact. He looked out the window at the winter scenery zipping by, but had to turn away when the movement started making him feel nauseous.

            “Man, for a second there, I thought you were dead,” Jeff said, chuckling from the seat next to him.

            “What?” Eric asked.

            “At the rink. You were laid out on the ice for, like, five minutes.”

            “Yeah,” Gordy said from the front seat. “I thought Jeff killed you for sure.”

            “Enough, boys,” Uncle Rocco said. “You did okay for your first time, Eric. You took a hard hit, but we’re not going to let that stop you. You’re a Bungee, and Bungees bounce back.”

            “He didn’t bounce back this time. He went splat!” Jeff said, laughing.

            “Shut up!” Eric snapped. “I’m not playing hockey anymore. And I’m a Scott, not a Bungee!”

            “You’re my sister’s son, and that makes you at least half a Bungee,” his uncle said. “It’s my job to make sure you do bounce back. You’ve had a tough break losing your dad and all, but I’m going to do my best to help you forget all that.”

            “I don’t want to forget about it!” Eric yelled, then sank back in his seat as flares erupted in his skull. “I’ll never forget my dad,” he murmured, but no one seemed to have heard.

I wish Stig was here, he thought. Then I could have some fun. Eric had made some new friends, some very different new friends this past summer. He’d met them on an incredible adventure that he still didn’t quite believe had been real.

A talking owl named Stig had taken him on something called an Assignment on another world. There, he’d had an adventure and wound up saving an entire world. He also realized that the accident that had killed his father had not been his fault.

When he had returned home, the feelings of guilt that had plagued him were gone. He was happy, or mostly happy. Then, his mother had decided that he needed to go and “hang out with boys.” She thought he spent too much time inside reading, or drawing. So she’d asked his Uncle Rocco to include him in some “male activities.”

The hockey disaster was just one of many. He just wasn’t an athlete, but what could he do? He couldn’t tell his mother, she’d just worry. So for now, he had to put up with it.

What he really wanted was to go on another Assignment. All through the fall, he’d looked for a sign, but none had come. He was beginning to think his friends had forgotten about him. He wished he could see them again. He needed them.

“I miss you guys,” he said in a whisper, as closed his eyes and laid his head back against the headrest.

So it was that he missed the large snowy white owl that flew in front of the car.

“Woa!” Gordy said, “Did you see that?”

“Yeah, that was some bird,” Uncle Rocco said.

“What was it?” Jeff asked.

“I think it was an owl,” Uncle Rocco replied.

Eric’s eyes snapped open and he sat straight up in his seat.

“A white owl?” he asked.

“Yeah, I think so,” his uncle said. “It just flew across the road.”

Eric looked out his side window, but could not see anything. Could it be…he wondered.

Now for the Rest of Chapter 1

Here's another reminder to vote in our first ever readers' poll if you haven't already. The poll is on the left.

A few days ago, I shared the first part of Chapter1 of my book, "The Deliverers: Sharky and the Jewel", with you. Now, as promised, I give you the rest of chapter 1:

In awe, Eric gaped around him. They were in a long corridor with doors on either side, each one the same. He noticed the door they had just come through had shifted to match the others, all rectangles about seven feet high with a large pane of frosted glass in the top half.

The hallway was lit by many chandeliers hanging from the ceiling, each of which held many candles that burned without a flicker in the still air. A red velvet carpet covered the floor, and it stretched as far as he could see, seeming to go forever in both directions.

Then, with a flicker of light, a desk materialized on his right. A wizened man with a long white beard and golden spectacles was sitting behind it. The desk was littered with papers. A large white quill pen stood in a jar of India ink amid the clutter. The man smiled as he rubbed his hands together. His blue eyes sparkled as he looked at the boy and the owl.

"Well, well, so this is the young man, is it, Stig?" he asked.

"Yes, quite correct," said Stig as he landed on the desk. "I have the honor of presenting Master Eric Scott. Eric, this is the Gatekeeper."

The old man stood up, his blue robes shimmering, and offered Eric a bony hand.

"Very pleased to meet you my boy," he said.

"Uh, same here," said Eric, shaking the old man's hand. He had expected the Gatekeeper to have a weak grip like his grandfather's, and was surprised by its strength.

The old man grinned as if reading his thoughts. "This job keeps me on the move," he said. "It wouldn't do to get out of shape. Now, I suppose Stig has explained all this to you. Is that right?" The Gatekeeper’s voice assumed a serious tone.

A Sneak Peek of Part of Chapter 1

Hello. Today, I'll give you a sneak peek of part of chapter 1 of "The Deliverers: Sharky and the Jewel". Chapter 1 is pretty long, so I'm doing the first part now. I'll follow up with the second half in an upcoming post. So, without further ado, here we go:

CHAPTER 1

Out of This World

The boy’s heart hammered in his chest. His knees quaked and he felt weak as he stood on the narrow mountain path, high above the plain below. Wind whipped his red hair and tugged at his clothes, trying to blow him over the cliff as he clung to the solid bulk of the rock face.

Beside him stood a man. Although the face was blurred and indistinct, the boy knew it was his father. The mountaintop was shrouded in mist, making everything around the pair hazy and surreal. A faint reddish light gave the mist a rosy glow, adding to the otherworldly feeling.

The boy’s father nodded, and they both began inching up the path, the man in the lead, each clutching the rock face. The boy took a deep breath and looked over the edge of the cliff. Wisps of cloud tracked across his vision, momentarily obscuring, then revealing, the dizzying drop to the landscape below.

He trembled, suddenly unable to move. His father stopped and turned, gesturing for him to follow. Almost without thinking, the boy took one step, then another, then one more. The reddish glow became brighter as they walked, until the air around them glowed blood red.

Suddenly, a black shadow loomed over them. The boy heard the flap of leathery wings and felt a blast of hot air as some creature flew overhead. Startled, both climbers darted toward the cliff to avoid the creature, their momentum carrying them toward the edge. The boy managed to grab hold of a boulder on the precipice, but his father stumbled, wobbled sickeningly on the edge, then toppled over. All the boy could do was watch as his father spun and twisted, hurtling down toward the plain, which rushed up to meet him. Arms and legs flailing the man tumbled, his mouth forming a scream.

“Nooo!!