Friends

So WOW! I just had a long time friend, hell he was my best man at my wedding, completely go off on me cause I didn't do what he told me to do with my cover. That's right not suggested, not constructive criticism. He flat out said your doing it wrong you need to do it like this. And when I didn't, he tells me off saying that he doesn't think he can support my book. I haven't been this mad since high school commercial design class. Everyone is entitled to there opinion, and constructive criticism and suggestions are appreciated, but at the end of the day it is my art, my vision. This "friend" Has since block me from Facebook saying if I ever stop listening to all the people that like the cover to let him know. I'm baffled. I mean seriously! I've seen covers that are just an emblem and words or a Photograph and words. (Deep Breath) I was going to work on the book today, but i'm so pissed I'm afraid it will come out poorly. To that "friend" of mine. Good luck on your future endeavors, continue to make amazing art as I know you will. And when you get over yourself. Consider contacting me. I shall continue to gain support for my body of work with or without you. Sorry for the rant people. I'll give you guys another sample from the book to make up for it.


Teaser from Chapter 3.

I heard the pressurized steam release just as the charged fist sent me face first into the door. The door splintered from the impact and I felt blood run down my forehead. Lucy fell to the floor from my limb hand as I sank to my knees dazed.

I came to my senses just as an oversized orc boot came rocketing at my face. I crossed my arms in the shape of an x and lunged forward. I caught the orc just below his ankle and launched his four hundred pounds of green muscle across the sparse room.

He recovered far too quickly for an individual his size. With a practiced roll he returned to his feet without preamble. He adjusted the steam powered arm attachment then snarled as he took a brawlers stance. I looked for Lucy. Apparently the gun had been knocked across the room with the orc.

And how did I miss the scent of an orc. Even the best groomed of them have a distinctive aroma. Another time I told myself first things first. The orc stood at right around seven feet tall. Built like a dockworker and a boxer’s love child. He wore a white button down shirt with a maroon vest. He had on tan pants with brown leather knee pads and brown leather boots.

I’m rather strong when I need to be. But strength is not everything in a fight. Knowing how to fight your opponent and knowing your surroundings can be the difference from walking away from a fight and being carried away. I took a guarded stance and took in my surrounding.

The facts; fact one the orc is not a random brute. He took a fighters stance after being took down instead of berserker charging. This meant he was a trained professional sent here for a purpose. Fact two the orc struck me instead of shooting me. This meant he was here to take someone alive. Fact three my back was to the door and there was still that figure crouched in the hallway under some kind of veil.

Behind the orc I noticed the large window. Three floors weren’t enough to kill him, but I hoped it would be a big enough deterrent. The steam hissed from his powered glove from the small vent just above his right elbow. I stepped off to the right my arms bent at the elbow out in front of me.

At the instant the orc’s fist passed me I clasped hard on his right wrist. I shifted my weight pulled hard on the wrist and shoved on the back of his elbow. The momentum slammed the orc into and through the door. But he did not fall. I circled around so that I was standing in front of the window.

The orc turned around rage and blood lust in his beady black eyes. He charged forward with a fury of blows. I dodge the bulk of them and blocked the rest. He was fast just not as fast as I was. I hunched and got inside his long reach. I hammered a few hard shots to his body and an uppercut to his chin.

The orc was knocked back a few steps. “Owww!” I said shaking my hand. I admit I can punch through bricks when I need to. Punching that orc was like punching a steel girder. The strikes however did have the desired effect. The orc finally lost it and charged with reckless abandon.

He lunged at me again with both hands outstretch. Still standing in front of the window I fell to my back while grabbing the orcs wrists. I planted my feet squarely in his mid-section and heaved with all of my might. The orc vacated the premises to the sound of shattered glass and splintered wood. Moments later I her a loud thud and the sound of bones breaking.

I rolled over and picked up Lucy from the rubble of what I think was a coffee table. I stood up and caught a quick look at the room. The place was simple near empty and aside from the scuffle mess was immaculately clean. Too clean like the room had never been lived in.

I walked into the bedroom to find the single bed perfectly made. The closet was filled with pressed clothes that smell like then were still hanging on the rack in a store somewhere. There were no personal articles to be found anywhere. I walked back in to the main room.

The sounds of several clicks of hammers being locked into place came from the hole that once was the door.