Steve McHugh's Blog: Steve McHugh - Writer, page 21

I’m Pretty Sure it was the Balrog

Once again it’s time for a blog post from one of my awesome friends at 47North. This month’s is Stant Litore, who writes the very impressive The Zombie Bible series. Take it away, Stant.

 

I’m Pretty Sure it was the Balrog

My novels are sold as horror and there is certainly a lot of horror in them. But in my heart, I’m also writing works of fantasy, massive alternate histories in which the dead walk and hunger and brave prophets, clerics, warriors, and everyday men and women have to stand against them and against the forces in their culture that make the hunger of the dead both possible and inevitable.

Fantasy and horror are siblings, you see. At their heart, both are about close encounters with something that is strange and new to us, something uncanny. Whenever we encounter something strange and different, something unexpected—whether that’s a person who’s different from us or a planet—we experience fear and wonder. And in the moments that follow, we allow one or the other of those to drive us.

Fantasy tends to focus on the experience of wonder, and horror tends to focus on the experience of fear, but of course, these aren’t mutually exclusive. In Middle Earth, the Pillars of the Kings and the near-immortal trees of Lothlorien are occasions for wonder, but there are also Balrogs and unquiet dead. And in Stephen King’s The Stand, there is a whole lot of creepy, but there are also moments of sheer wonder—when, for example, you encounter Mother Abigail in a Nebraska cornfield while you sleep.

I have been thinking a lot lately about what drew me to these genres in the first place. I figure it was the Balrog. I distinctly remember sitting on a second-grade bus with a paperback clutched in my sweating hands, heart pounding as Gandalf stood on that bridge facing a demon of fire and darkness. Man. That was some storytelling.

The same year, someone gave me a weathered little Bible as a gift, and I tore into it, reading in a fury and hunger that only the really young know. I read Genesis at a gulp. I was enraptured. Such moments of wonder and fear, fantasy and horror, all rolled together: an ark tossing on a flood, a man standing over his altar-bound son with a knife, and through it all, a desperate yearning for reconciliation, between husbands and wives, fathers and sons, humans and God, and between everyone who is separated, different, and alien to each other.

I think that’s where my passion for fantasy and horror began—with a Balrog and with a boy bound to an altar.

I love these genres, these siblings, fantasy and horror. They are important genres. They wrench us out of our cubicle lives for a while and seduce us into dark forests where we confront, larger than life, the very situation that we live out every day of our real lives: our encounter with something different, something that we might either wonder at, or shrink back from in fear.

In living that moment again and again, safely, in the pages of stories, we might—we might learn—to live that moment just a bit better. Because it’s so important: how we respond when we encounter something, someone, who seems alien to us. Do we pull away in dread? Or do we draw closer to discover more? Isn’t that decision what defines us?

I wrestle with that throughout The Zombie Bible. I’ve been wrestling with it since second grade. I am Stant Litore, and I am a devourer of stories. I’m pretty sure it was the Balrog and that bound boy that began it.

 

 

Thanks very much, Stant. You can learn more about Stant, by going to his website.

And find a copy of Strangers in the Land, here.

Writing This Year

As 2014 is well underway, I figured I’d share my plans for writing for this year.

As most of you know, I’ve just published Infamous Reign, A Hellequin Novella. It’s done fairly well, with an average of 4.8 out of 5 on Amazon.com from 12 reviews, and 5 out of 5 in Amazon.com from 8 reviews.

And 2014 continues with the Hellequin theme with the publication of Book 3; With Silent Screams on the 18th Feb.

If you haven’t pre-ordered it yet, you can on Amazon.

Currently I’m writing book 4: Prison of Hope. It’s going well, and I’m hoping to have this draft done by a few months at the most. As for when it’ll be out. No idea. It depends on a lot of factors, but I’ll keep everyone up-to-date when I find out.

Once PoH is done,  I have few other projects I’m interested to get started this year.

Chimera Book 1, my steampunk, horror book is very much on the forefront of my mind and it’s what I’ll be starting after PoH. Hopefully anyway.

As for the rest of the year. Well, I need to get Hellequin Book 5 done and there are 2 Hellequin offshoots I want to write. Both are the start of a trilogy of books, and while they’re both in the Hellequin universe, neither star Nate. I can’t tell you what either of them are about yet, as I don’t want to spoil anything, but I’m favouring one over the other. So hopefully my third book this year will be one of these.

If I have time, I do have a novella idea staring Tommy. I’m a big fan of Tommy’s, so I’d like to give him is own book.

So there we go, that’s my sort of plan for the year. Best laid plans and all that, but time willing, I should be able to get 3 books written in 2014. I don’t need sleep. Probably.

With Silent Screams Chapter 1

Here’s the first chapter from the upcoming Hellequin Chronicles book 3: With Silent Screams. Any spelling/grammar issues are because this isn’t the final edit. If you haven’t picked up the first 2 books yet, you can get them for $0.99 at the moment by using this deal.

 

Chapter 1

Toronto, Canada. Now.

Sirens wailed as I parked the Mitsubishi Warrior next to a row of police cars and climbed out into the cool night air.

“You can’t park there,” one of the cops said as he made his way over to me. “You’re going to have to move.”

“He’s with me,” Sky said as she followed me out of the truck and showed the cop her ID.

“Sorry, Ma’am,” he said and stepped aside, allowing us through.

I pushed down the part of me that screamed to run toward the house—it wouldn’t do anyone any good. Body bags were already being carried into the house. The building itself was a fairly old brick structure, with two floors and probably four bedrooms. It certainly looked big enough. The nearest neighbor was a few hundred feet away, and with all the open ground and trees around it, I doubted anyone had heard a thing while its inhabitants died.

“Damn it,” I said as we reached the front door and I saw the splatter of blood inside.

“Hey, who the hell are you?” a male detective shouted as he strode toward us. Sky flashed her ID again.

“Oh great, a spook, that makes things much better.”

Sky’s ID just had a badge and a picture of Hades’ logo on it—a raven sat atop a shield. Like all of the more powerful members of the world, Hades had his own business empire and security force. Very few humans knew that the Hades from mythology was real, although the two barely matched up in reality. The majority of law enforcement in Canada had heard of Hades as an organization, and most thought it was a secretive, CIA-esque authority. They were only partially correct.

“I’m not here to argue, just look around,” Sky told him, replacing her ID in her pocket. “What can you tell us?”

“Well as you can see,” the detective said waving his arms behind him. “It’s a home invasion gone wrong. Some punks probably broke in and started searching, the old lady found them and they fought. She died with a stab wound to the throat.”

“And the man?” I asked.

“Yeah, I figure the little bastards enjoyed killing her and took their time with him. Probably figured he was holding out on riches or some shit. We’ll find them, though.”

“No, detective, you won’t,” I said and walked passed him and into the nearest room.

Blood saturated the carpet and a man in white overalls was examining the body of an elderly lady, looking for clues, while his colleague searched the room.

“Did she die in here?” I asked them.

The one kneeling beside the body turned to face me. “Yes, on the floor just here. It looks like she was stabbed in the throat. The spray of blood on the wall there suggests she was standing when it was done.”

I stared at the wall, and as the man said, the blood spray suggested she was standing when stabbed.

“Have you found a knife?” I asked.

He shook his head. “We’re still looking.”

“Can I see the body?”

The man glanced over at his colleague, neither of them wanted to say yes.

“He’s with me,” Sky said again. I got the impression she enjoyed showing off her ID.

Hades would probably get a call about an employee of his walking onto a murder scene, but I doubted he’d be too concerned. Hades allowed his employees the freedom to work as they needed to, and Sky, as his daughter, was given more than her share of allowances.

The coroner moved aside, and after placing some gloves on my hands, I crouched beside her and took a look at the body of Mrs. Vivian Moon. She’d bled out from the massive gash on her throat.

“You okay, Nate?” Sky asked as she joined me.

“No,” I said softly, hoping to keep my temper in check.

“Where’s the male?” Sky asked the coroner.

“He’s been taken out already, but you can go to the bedroom where he died,” he said. “First on the right.”

I removed my gloves and threw them into the hazardous waste bag as we left the room, then followed the man’s directions upstairs, the smell of death growing ever stronger.  I grabbed a second set of gloves from a box outside the room, with Sky following suit, and we opened the door to whatever horrors the coroner had warned us about.

There were two detectives inside, one male and one female and both of them did their best to not glance at the blood-soaked bed. At some point the man who’d been on it had been a detective by the name of William Moon. He’d been a good man, an ex-Marine who had served his country during the Vietnam War and who had come back determined to do something good in the world. That good had eventually gotten him killed.

“Bill,” I said softly and made my way to the bed. “What the hell did they do to you?”

“You knew the victim?” one of the detectives asked.

“Yeah, he was a cop,” I said. “Retired a while back, but we worked together on something a long time ago.”

“Can’t have been that long,” the man said. “You’re what, thirty?”

“I’m older than I look,” I said. About sixteen hundred years older. “What did they do to him?”

“They cut him up and beat him pretty badly,” the woman said. “The coroner says they broke a lot of bones, and then they decided to partially skin him. They eviscerated him in the end. He died hard. The coroner had the body removed about twenty minutes ago.”

“Can you both give us a minute?” Sky said, showing them her ID. They nodded and left the room.

“Nate, what did he call you for?”

“He said people were dying and he needed my help. He told me to be here at six and he’d explain everything. That was four hours ago, which is pretty much exactly how long it took to get you and drive here. The call was cut off when he was about to tell me something else, though”

“Any idea what?”

“Don’t know. The phone just went dead. There are storms in the area, so I assumed it was a problem with the phone itself. When I couldn’t call it back, I rang you.”

“I’m going to talk to my father. I’ll see if I can get him to take the case over. I know this is human on human, and not even Avalon touches those, but I figure we can make an exception. We’ll find out who did this.”

“I know,” I said. “And then I’m going to kill them.”

Sky placed a hand on my shoulder and I placed my hand on top and squeezed slightly. There was a time when we had almost been more than friends, but time and personalities had ensured that it never happened.

Sky removed her phone from her pocket as I noticed a business card that had fallen onto the carpet beside where Bill would have laid on the bed.

I picked up the black card and found that it belonged to a hotel in Manhattan, the Scepter Hotel. A bloody mark stained both sides of one corner.  At one point, I would have used my blood magic to try and get some insight into who the blood belonged to. But those days were gone. Since my necromancy had reared its head nearly a year ago, my blood magic had vanished. Hades had told me that necromancy and blood magic can’t coexist, but it was a huge thing to lose, and something I still had trouble getting used to.

“You ever heard of this?” I asked Sky, passing the card to her as she told someone on the other end of the phone to wait a moment.

“It’s a fancy five-star place. You think this blood is Bill’s?”

“Maybe. It’s worth looking into.”

“I’ll bag it up,” she said and took it from me as she started talking on her phone again.

I walked over to a nearby door and pushed it open, revealing a clean ensuite bathroom. Directly in front of the door was a mirror above a white sink. Someone had written “welcome back” on the glass in blood. I noticed the small camera, positioned on top of the mirror. And then my world exploded.

No amount of magic at my disposal could have stopped the destructive power of the explosion as it rushed toward me. A hastily assembled shield of dense air robbed it of its potency and left me alive, but the shockwave still picked me off the ground as if I were made of paper, flinging me back through the nearest window with a crash.

I slammed into the solid earth with a crunch, tumbling backward until a large tree stopped any further movement with a definitive thud.

I lay there, covered in blood, dirt, and brick dust as my brain tried to catch up with what had happened.

The first port of call was pain. It washed over me, hunkering down in every conceivable place on my body. My ribs felt as if on fire, turning even the simple act of breathing into a battle. My left arm was numb, and my back felt wet, but I couldn’t move enough to find out what had happened. I coughed and the pain roared through my body until I spat bright blood onto the grass beside me. Probably a punctured lung.

All in all, I was lucky. I might not have felt it, but if I’d been human I would have most certainly died.

My magic had started to heal me—my ringing ears faded back to normal within a few seconds, so I just sat still as the thoughts of Sky and the officers in the house filled my head. Were they okay? Did I take the brunt of the blast? The more I thought about it, the angrier I got. Unfortunately, I couldn’t move.

A short while later, a young woman walked out of the woods beside me toward the ruins of the house. She glanced around briefly as flames leapt from the giant hole where the bedroom and bathroom used to be, then turned toward me. Her high heels and knee-length dress were an odd sight, but the smile on her face suggested she was not here to help.

She ran her hand through her shoulder-length brown hair and stood a few feet in front of me, the smile never wavering from her beautiful face. I’d never seen her before—there wasn’t even a glimmer of recognition on my part—but from the callous grin on her face, I got the impression that she certainly knew me.

She took a few steps toward me and breathed deeply before placing one of her heels against my shoulder and pushing down. The strength of the woman was incredible as the heel tore into my shoulder, causing me to yell in pain as she turned her foot left and right.

“I’d love to make you my new pet,” she said and removed her foot, her heel dripping blood onto my arm. “My last one didn’t make it.”

“You triggered the explosion,” I said. A cold rage began to fill me, but I couldn’t have fought her on rage alone—I’d have been killed. Instead, I was forced to sit still, watch, and listen, which did little to improve my mood.

The woman made a contented sound, like a purr. “Of course. I wasn’t meant to come say hello, but I just couldn’t stay away. I wanted to see how you’d handle this . . . warning.” She raised her head and listened as the sounds of voices coming closer.

She sighed and bent down in front of me. “Such a shame we have to cut our relationship short. I’d kill you, but I don’t want you to leave the fun just yet. See you soon, Mister Garrett.” She pressed one finger into the hole she’s made with her heel a moment ago. I yelled out once more until she withdrew the finger and licked it clean. “You taste good. Maybe when we meet again, I’ll be able to get my fill of you.” She kicked me in the head so hard, it would have moved a car. I blacked out.

Hellequin Chronicles Books 1 and 2 for $0.99 Each

I don’t usually use my blog to post deals and things for my books, but I figured this one might interest a few people.

Both Crimes Against magic and Born of Hatred are featured in Amazon’s Bounceback Deal.

Basically if you buy any Science Fiction or Fantasy book before 31st Jan, you can get both of my books for $0.99 each. For more details, here’s a link.

Personally, I think that’s a pretty fine deal, although I’ll freely admit to being slightly biased about that.

 

So there you go, a little bit of news for those of you who may not have read the books before but are interested in doing so.

2013 and Beyond

2013 was a pretty good year. To start with both the Hellequin books published in 2012 were doing very well, well enough for 47North to contact me and offer me a publishing contract. From that they ended up as a bestselling series. I published a Novella that appears to have been accepted well and I’ve started writing book 4 in the Hellequin books, while drafting the first book in a new series.

There were downsides too. If I’d managed my time better I probably could have written the first Chimera book this year, and my day job has gone downhill considerably, but faced off against my family and friends being happy and healthy and my writing going well, I can’t complain too much.

I’ve met some incredible and talented new people this year, many of whom are now good friends, even if they live in different parts of the world to me. And in one weird case, have a hankering for dino porn (you know who you are).

 

So, 2013 was pretty cool. Hopefully 2014 will be even better.

So here’s to you; my friends and family, fellow writers and readers. Each of you made 2013 considerably better for having you in it. And no matter how good or bad your 2013 was, here’s to your 2014 being awesome.

Merry Christmas

Merry Christmas one and all.

I hope you all have an awesome day, and if you don’t celebrate Christmas, have a great day anyway.

See you all in the new year.

With Silent Screams Cover

The release of Hellequin Chronicles book 3: With Silent Screams, is only a few months away, so I thought it would be nice to share the cover with everyone.

 

So here it is, the cover to With Silent Screams.

 

 

Before anyone asks (because someone will), no that isn’t Nate.

You can pre-order the book from Amazon. It’s been a long time coming, so I’m both very excited and a bit nervous about the release.

Have a good Christmas/holiday/whatever you’re planning on doing.

 

Infamous Reign Release

That’s right, the Hellequin Novella, Infamous Reign is now up on Amazon for purchasing at $1.99 (£1.26). Enjoy!

Amazon.co.uk

Amazon.com

 

 

In late 15th century England, two young princes are given over by Merlin to the protection of their uncle, King Richard III. They soon vanish from sight, igniting tales of their demise at Richard’s hand and breeding unrest throughout the land.

Nathanial Garrett, also known as Hellequin, is sent to London to decipher fact from rumor and uncovers a plot to replace the king. But his investigation quickly becomes personal when he learns that an old nemesis is involved. He soon finds himself racing against time to rescue the boys before their fate, and the fate of all England, is sealed in blood.

Infamous Reign is a novella in the Bestselling Hellequin Chronicles series, mixing gritty and action-packed historical fantasy with ancient mythology.

MP3 Winner

Just a brief post today to announce the person who has won the competition to get a copy of both Hellequin books on MP3.

 

Thanks to everyone who took part.

 

And the winner is:

 

Cole Waggoner.

 

Congrats to Cole. You have 1 week to e-mail me the address you’d like them sent to.

 

With Silent Screams – Prologue

I’m very pleased to be able to show you all the prologue of Hellequin Chronicles book 3, With Silent Screams.

Enjoy.

 

Prologue

 

 

 

New York City, New York. 1977.

I do not like flying. I’ve been told it’s perfectly safe, that it’s the future of travel and about a hundred other things which I’m sure the sane part of my brain agrees with. The other part of my brain doesn’t like the idea of being tens of thousands of feet in the air, in a small metal tube, with large quantities of jet fuel. I don’t like the fact that my life is in the hands of people I’ve never met—from the pilots to the repair crew.

More than all of that, though, I really don’t like the fact that flying makes me feel mortal. And as a nearly sixteen-hundred-year-old sorcerer, that isn’t a very nice feeling at all. But when friends call saying they need my help, I’ll brave this ludicrous form of travel and get there as quickly as possible. Even so, as the DC-9 came to a standstill outside the gate, allowing all of the passengers to exit into the terminal, I felt a moment of relief.

JFK airport is massive on a scale that’s hard to convey, and that’s not just including square footage. The sheer number of people inside the airport was almost overwhelming, and I was grateful to finally get outside.

“Nathan,” a man shouted as he walked away from a red Ford Mustang and took my hand in his, shaking it vigorously.

“Roberto,” I replied with a smile as I dragged my hand free of his grip. “You said you needed my help with something.”

The smile on his face vanished and he placed a hand on my shoulder, moving me toward the car. “We’ll talk once we’re on the road. We’ve got a bit of a drive ahead of us.”

“And where would that be to?” I asked across the car’s roof as I put my bag in the boot.

“Portland, Maine.”

I paused. “You still work for Avalon, yes?”

Roberto nodded and got into the car. I sighed and followed suit.

“How long is this drive?” I asked after he turned the engine on and pulled away from the airport.

“Seven hours, give or take a few minutes.”

“So, you’ve got plenty of time to tell me what the hell is going on.”

Roberto was quiet for a while as the traffic around us began to get heavier. I didn’t want to disturb him too much when he was driving; he was new to the concept of driving and I wasn’t sure he could drive and hold a conversation at the same time.

“Why didn’t you have me land there, then?” I asked as we entered the highway and Roberto appeared to relax with the monotony of going in a straight line.

“Because New York is neutral ground. It’s the closest neutral state to Maine, and the safest place for us to meet without anyone being alerted to either of our presence. Technically I have not, and never will, set food inside Maine without official permission.”

“I assume you don’t have that permission.”

Roberto’s silence told me all I needed to know.

“So, do you feel like telling me why you’re risking some serious trouble heading your way?” I asked, getting more confused by the minute.

“Glove box.”

Inside the glove box was a manila envelope, which contained a photograph of a young woman with long, dark hair. There was a sheet of paper attached to the photo, which gave information about the woman.

“Sally-Ann,” I said, reading the information. “Nineteen. She was born in Green Bay, Wisconsin, and she’s a college student studying fine art at Yale, which makes her smarter than the average college student, I guess.”

“She was incredibly smart, and sweet, and a good person.”

“Was?”

“Her body was found outside of Stratford, Maine, four days ago.”

I was silent for a moment. “I’m sorry, Roberto. How did you know her?”

“Her father worked for me. He was a doorman—he died four years ago in a car crash just a few miles from safety.”

“Safety?”

“I mean home. It’s been a long few days.”

“That’s fair enough. So, what happened to Sally-Ann?”

“She lived with her grandparents in Augusta after that. I made sure she was well taken care of.”

Humans in positions of power or influence often also work for Avalon or some of the more powerful individuals who make up the council. Humans are a good way to find out who’s who in a city, and I knew from previous experience that Roberto was very protective of anyone who worked for him.

“So, why was she in Stratford?”

“She went there a lot; she’d met some artistic types a few years ago and she liked to go there to meet them and draw. She was supposed to be on her way there when she was murdered. Whoever killed her dumped the body in a shallow ditch and let the heavy snow-fall cover her. We only found her because a local fell into the ditch. Sally-Ann’s grandparents contacted me to let me know. They’re heartbroken. She was going to be something very special.”

“That’s why you’re risking your job?”

“Avalon won’t fire me, Nathan.”

He had a fair point. But they would make his life very difficult for a few years. Roberto was a head of a division of the SOA, or Sword of Avalon. The SOA are the internal security agency for Avalon. They’re a mixture of an Internal Affairs department and the Secret Service.

“Here’s the thing I don’t understand,” I said, sliding the picture of Sally-Ann back into the envelope. “Why me? You’re more than capable of investigating this yourself.”

“You’ll see,” he said. “I promise all of your questions will be answered in Portland.”

“Then put your foot down, because this whole thing is making me nervous.”

The rest of the journey was done in silence, allowing me to get a few hours sleep. Roberto woke me once he’d pulled up outside a bar called the Mill and switched off the engine. I yawned and opened the car door, stretching as the cold air of winter in Maine made sure I was fully awake.

The snow had let up for the day, but it covered everything in an inch-thick layer of whiteness, which crunched under foot as I made my way around the car to join Roberto, who was waiting for me.

“In here,” Roberto said as he pushed open the bar door.

I glanced up at the sign that hung above the window and stepped inside.

The warmth flowed over me like a welcome embrace. I glanced around the spacious bar and saw half a dozen people sat at various tables, either talking amongst themselves or eating. I spotted Roberto talking to the bartender, and he waved me over.

“Nice place,” I said. “I remember it being a bit more of a hovel.”

Roberto opened his mouth to speak when a woman walked up to us, her heels clicking on the bare wooden floor. She wore a beautifully tailored dark suit and heels that put her just a few inches below my own height of five-nine. Her eyes were deepest blue and contrasted nicely with her long, almost black hair.

“Mister Garrett, Mister Cortez, my name is Rebecca Dean, please follow me,” she said and turned to walk away. Her accent placed her from New York, but I thought I caught something else in there, a little Irish maybe.

I watched her walk and received an elbow in the ribs from Roberto for the trouble. “Watch yourself,” he said with a slight grin.

“I’m more interested in watching her,” I said.

Roberto pointed to the woman’s heels, which were four inches long, and glinted as light hit them. “Those heels have blades on them,” he whispered. “Like I said, watch out.”

The woman led us up a flight of stairs and down a corridor, where she opened door and beckoned us inside.

“Please take a seat,” she offered, pointing to the two black leather armchairs that sat opposite a couch made of the same material. A glass coffee table lay between the chairs and couch, and as I sat in one of the chairs, I took the opportunity to survey the room.

It was a fairly large office at about thirty by thirty foot, but it contained nothing out of the ordinary.  A large desk sat at one end, next to a window that bathed the room in light. The walls were adorned with paintings of various landscapes from around the world—they were very impressive, and whoever had done the work had certainly had a good eye.

“So, are we here to see you?” I asked the lady, who had sat down in the couch in front of me, regaining my attention as I stared at an exquisite watercolor painting of Camelot.

“I’m just the bar’s manager,” she said. “I’m only here as a witness.”

“A witness to what?” I asked.

“To why I asked you here today,” a man said as he stepped into the office

I was on my feet immediately, making my way over to the stocky man and embracing him tightly in a hug.

“Nathan, my old friend,” he said with genuine warmth as we parted. “I’m glad to see you again.”

“You too, you look good,” I said. He looked almost exactly the same as he had when we’d last met over a century previous. He’d let his dark hair grow to shoulder length and had a small scar on his cheek, but it was his eyes that gave away the pain as if he had the weight of the world on his shoulders.

He stepped past me and shook Roberto’s hand as the bar’s manager bowed deeply.

“My liege,” she said and he motioned for her to stand.

“Liege?” I asked. “When did you get people to call you that?”

My old friend turned back to me and smiled, but this time it didn’t reach his eyes. “Have you not heard? I am the king of Shadow Falls.”

My mouth dropped open in shock. I’d heard nothing about it. Even away from Avalon, I would have thought I’d have picked up little traces here and there. “How long?”

“Three years now,” he said. “Although it feels much longer.”

“King Galahad,” I said. “Damn, if it doesn’t suit you. Now can someone please tell me what the hell is going on?”

 

—–

And that’s it. If you want to read more, you’ll have to wait a few months, but you can pre-order the book at amazon.