J.B. Garner's Blog, page 49

Sneak Peek: The Twelfth Labor Chapter 2

Because all good Sneak Peeks come in three (I don’t know where I read that, it’s a law or some stuff!), we’ll continue our look at the upcoming finale to Three Seconds to Legend with a peek at the second chapter of The Twelfth Labor.�� Drama, action, romance, and a little modern mythology all come together in the pro wrestling world.�� Enjoy!

Chapter 2 Cut the Deck

Rick Donner hugged his two sons, Ricky and Tyler, close to his chest. God, how stupid he had been to push all this aside for what? A huge pile of cash, yes, and sure, his marriage to Dana Harding had broken down for now-obvious reasons, but had that really been worth it? Now Rick had been no deadbeat dad, no matter how slimy the New York wheeler-dealer was or had been, but he rued not having been here sooner. It already been most of a week here in Oklahoma and he felt as if he was continually making up for lost time.

The Harding-Donner clan was here in one of Tulsa’s finest hospitals to visit the woman who had made that hug possible. Marcy Fitzpatrick, Dana’s boss in the Northlands Championship Wrestling League and all-around aging hard ass, had literally taken a bullet to keep the boys safe and Rick was willing to anything to repay her. Her and the two local wrestlers, Jane London and Max Maxwell, who had helped her save the literal day.

“Dad, come on,” Tyler, the oldest and just on the cusp of college, said. “I’ve been glad you’ve been around but -“

“Sorry, slugger,” Rick chuckled. “I’m just …” Words somehow failed the silver-tongued ad man for a moment. “Look, I don’t need to explain why I want to hug my boys.” He smoothed back his coal-black hair. “Anyway, we should go visit Ms. Fitzpatrick. I’m sure she’ll enjoy the company.”

“I hope she gets out of the hospital soon,” Ricky (Rick, Jr. to be factual, though even Rick himself preferred Ricky) nodded emphatically. “So, when is Momma coming home?” That had been the continual question on the seven-year old’s lips since Rick had stepped off the plane.

“Calm down, spud,” Tyler said, ruffling his brother’s mop of chestnut hair. “She’ll be back when she’s finished helping out Lei, then I’m sure they’ll both come back.”

Rick nodded in agreement, trying not to let his mild discomfort show. It wasn’t that Dana had proverbially ‘switched teams’ or that she had found someone else to love. It was the fact that he really didn’t know how much the boys knew or understood about how, well, different their family would likely wind up. Of course, all of that hinged on the hope that Dana and the Ito kid would make it out of Vegas in one piece.

Enough of that. He had done everything he could to give them an edge and now he had to trust in those two very capable ladies to finish the job. Rick had other business to take care of as the three of them walked into Marcy’s room.

Marcy grumbled as she tapped at her laptop. To think she had been laid-up here for nearly two weeks now galled her. Back in her prime, she would have bounced back before now but now she was a senior citizen and that fact alone made her doctors into a bunch of weak-kneed schoolgirls. Sure, the rifle bullet had shattered her wrist like it was glass and sure, she would probably never get to use it properly again, but …

Sweet mother Mary, Marcy was a mess and she knew it.

Frankly, if it hadn’t been for Rick’s arrival just after the attempt to kidnap the Harding brood, the whole business, the entire NCWL, would have probably collapsed. Considering the league was mostly held together by chewing gum and Marcy’s own indomitable will, well, shite, that made perfect sense. It would be a horrible mess if, after all the hell that Dana, her best wrestler, and Leilana, her first and only love’s granddaughter, had to slog through, they came home to find no future waiting for them here either.

Rick Donner, though, he was a slick operator. Despite every horrid thing Dana had told Marcy over the years, he even seemed to be a decent lad, if a tad slimy. He had no compunctions about swooping in and taking over the day-to-day, keeping the NCWL in one piece and even maybe growing just a tad. Today, though Marcy had something a bit more important and personal to ask Rick to take care of. She looked up from the computer as Rick and the two boys came in for their daily visit.

“Hey, Marcy,” Rick said, tipping a nonexistent hat, as Ricky ran up to the side of the bed. Tyler stayed back a respectful distance alongside his father.

“Are they gonna let you come home today, Miss Marcy?”

“Hello, Mr. Donner,” Marcy nodded in response, then made an exaggerated scowl at Ricky. “Afraid not, lad, those horrid doctors are too worried about gettin’ sued ta let me get back to mah job. A bunch of quacks, the lot of ‘em!” The short rant made the youngster start giggling uncontrollably.

“Well, I’m sure they’ll come to their sense any day now,” Rick said. “That or they’ll just get so sick of your grousing they will do anything you want.”

“My forthrightness is one of me charms, Donner.” Marcy couldn’t suppress a smirk. “Anyway, any early word on the dirt sheets?” Tyler shifted a bit uncomfortably but it was Rick that answered.

“Just the actual match that went down and the results. Hell, we should be glad we learned that much this quick. I guess even the LVGL’s privacy policies don’t mean squat when you parade the GWA women’s champion around pre-match.”

“Aye, I saw what you sent me on the way over.” Marcy glanced again at the e-mail before closing the laptop up. “Now, considerin’ what’s goin’ on out there, I took the liberty of contactin’ some folks.”

“This is obviously where I get a new set of errands to run.”

“That’s why I like you, lad, yer one of the smart ones.” She shrugged a little. “I don’t see a spot of choice anymore. I sent word to Leilana’s folks, told ‘em the bare basics, and that their little girl had a championship match comin’.”

Ricky lit up at the mention of the Ito family, no doubt the prospect of having another boy his age running around. Tyler rubbed the back of his head.

“I hope I’m not speaking out of line, Ms. Fitzpatrick, Dad, but don’t you think that might expose them to danger? I mean, Lei’s not even, well, freed yet.” The teenager was searching for a better word but, hell, it was the right one. What the Von Richters pulled could best be likened to legalized kidnapping.

“I think I’m agreeing with Tyler. What’s the angle, Marcy? What do we gain for the risk?”

“The angle, Rick, is that we show that we aren’t scared o’ them bastards. When they show up and sit in that front row seat to see their girl win the gold, and damn right she will, the Von Richters will know we won’t back down. Not anymore.”

The numbers were obviously computing in that brain of his. Rick Donner was the kind of man, Marcy could tell, who left nothing to chance. Everything was calculated in loss versus gain, even the intangibles. She only hoped he put the proper weight to those things that didn’t have a price.

“It’s risky but I see your point.” Rick rubbed his clean-shaven jaw. “I have to admit, I’m sick of running and hiding anyway. I’ve been used by that family for the last time.”

“So are we going to go pick them up from the airport?” Ricky bounced by the side of the bed, all spitfire and eagerness. Even if he was mature enough to understand the risk, he didn’t seem to care.

“Aye, on Monday, among other things,” Marcy said. “The other thing, Rick, is, like you said yerself, I’m tired o’ runnin’ and hidin’. I think it’s time fer us to circle the wagons, you know what I mean, lad?”

“Huh,” Rick said. “I think I just might.”

There wasn’t much privacy for anyone in the LVGL. Even the men and women with ‘private’ locker rooms had no such thing, not for real. Still, Leilana thought it was better than having this talk in the gym or the locker rooms or even the Silver Bell, the Silver Nugget casino’s restaurant. Here, at least, there was an illusion of some peace and quiet.

The aftermath of that tumultuous ladder match had been a blur of ring doctors, medical examinations, a chance to clean up, then the dull comfort of sleep. Despite all the odds, Leilana had gotten away with only strains, a web of bruises, and strict orders to rest and recuperate for as long as possible. Strangely, or perhaps not so strangely, Dr. Kristoff didn’t pull her clearance to wrestle. No, this was still all part of Angela Von Richter’s grand design.

The night’s sleep had done little good, only turning the road map of contusions and swelling from two brutal matches in two consecutive weeks into all sorts of ugly shades of yellow and purple. Physical pain, though, was only the least of the Hawaiian’s worries. Dana should be here any moment and then, after they talked, they would have to talk to the others, find out how close to the truth Leilana was about the reasons the five of them had turned on each other so quickly and cruelly.

First though, Dana. As if on cue, there was a knock at the door.

“Ms. Ito, your manager is here,” the ‘security’ guard called through the door.

“Please let her in.”

Last night had been hell for Dana Harding. First she had to suffer the ‘tender’ ministrations of Dr. Kristoff to relocate her then-dislocated and already torn-up shoulder. The damned thing had gotten caught in between rungs of the ladder when the whole thing had gotten shoved over and was now wrapped up in support tape and athletic bandages. By the time she had been let go, everyone else had scattered, either under their own power or, as she found out in Leilana’s case, helped straight to their rooms under doctor’s orders.

That was really the worst of it. The Texan had wanted to be there for Leilana, to see if she was alright, to try to make sure everything was okay after that whole mess. In the end, though, there was nothing Dana could do. She even tried to go to Lei’s room but was cut off by casino security. Doctor’s orders and all of that. Bullshit. Angela Von Richter’s orders, maybe.

At least they were letting her in this morning.

The moment Dana saw Leilana sitting on the edge of the bed in her University of Hawaii hoodie and shorts, she wanted to cry. It wasn’t that she was beat-up. In this business, well, that happened. You had to accept it. It was the badly swollen bruise on her cheek, the one Rose Bull (that lady was due a world of pain) started and Dana herself had made a million times worse. That’s what did it.

“Dana, I- how are you this morning?” Lei said in that soft, meek voice that she carried with her out of the ring. The swollen mouth made her normally perfect enunciation and that cute little lilt sound a bit off.

It was probably overreaction on Dana’s part, that little rational part of her brain thought so anyway, but that didn’t stop her. She was there in front of Leilana in a few long strides, kneeling in front of her. Lei blinked slowly, confusedly, as Dana took both of her hands in her own.

“Ah’m sorry, ah’m so sorry.” It was stupid that she cared so much. Come on, this was wrestling. Could Dana have ever expected that they would never be in a match against each other ever again? Just a few months ago that’s what she wanted more than anything, to overcome that rookie upstart that had come out of nowhere and beat her. Now, though …

“Dana, please, I will be alright.” Lei tried to smile and it looked wrong with the purple-and-yellow bruise. “I, well, I was more worried about you. They said something had happened with the ladder and -” She cut herself off, biting her lip. “I should have come to find you.”

“Aw, honey, yew ain’t ever got to worry about me.” Dana managed a weak smile in return. She thought for sure she had gone too far. Maybe she had, but Leilana was just too much of a damn saint to hold it against her. “Yew’re the important one here, yew’re the one that’s trapped.”

“I am no more important than anyone else.” Lei squeezed Dana’s hands warmly. “In the end, we must all be free or all of this blood and pain will be for nothing.”

“Ah’d hold that thought at least ’till we have our little meetin’ today. There ain’t no tellin’ what last night did. That certainly wasn’t no love fest, Ah can tell yew that.” Dana looked up, into Leilana’s eyes. Despite the damage she had caused, Dana couldn’t help but stare at what she thought was the loveliest sight in the world. “Ah’m just glad that what Ah did didn’t -“

“You only did what any one of us would have done. What I myself did.” Leilana looked down at her lap. “It is something we must accept, I mean, if we are going to stay together, right?” Her statement had started strong, but faded into that quiet hesitance that Lei often found herself in. Dana stood reached out and gently lifted the Hawaiian woman’s face up, meeting her eye to eye.

“We can make it work, Lei. Ain’t no reason either of us has to give up on the sport we love, just ’cause we might have to tangle once in a while.” She smiled and managed to bring out a hint of one in Leilana. “Shoot, love is a whole lot more powerful than that. Besides, it might turn out to be purty darn fun.”

Leilana blushed faintly as she stood, stiff, slow, but steady. Dana grinned as Lei tugged on her good arm and yanked her up to her feet. Yeah, things would be okay, at least between the two of them.

As if to drive any further doubt out of the Texan’s mind, Leilana reached up, cupped Dana’s chin lovingly, and guided her down for a kiss.

Maria Giovanni had lucked out in a fashion, having suffered the mildest injury of all of her teammates, just a gashed forehead from where the Ito girl had driven a ladder into her skull. Despite that fact, she didn’t feel very lucky and it all had to do with her darling, sweet daughter. To the matriarch of the Giovanni clan, how last night should have gone was obvious.

She and her daughter were a team, one of the best tag teams in the league and perhaps the world, so they should have used that to clear the ring. While that had not been something they had said, that would be how it would go. There was no need of words. True to Maria’s thoughts, it had indeed started that way. It didn’t stay that way.

All Maria had said was that they should concentrate on Leilana as the most dangerous threat to her winning the contract. Wasn’t it sensible that, after the ring was clear and the way open, for Maria to be the one to get the contract? Bambi certainly was talented, but she was so young, so untested solo. Her heart was strong, but that wouldn’t be enough against Sunny Clover.

The large black woman pulled the breakfast rolls out of the oven and wondered if perhaps that had been what set Bambi off. Why she had suddenly turned on her mother. Setting the hot tray on the stove-top, Maria rubbed at her sore throat and tried to reconcile her own logic with the obvious clues in front of her.

Bambi limped out from her bedroom, back and shoulders stooped from her own meeting with the ladder. Her normally cheerful face was sullen and downcast as she flopped into a chair.

“Morning, mama,” Bambi muttered in Italian, their usual household language.

“Breakfast is almost ready, sweetness,” Maria said, trying to smile. “That will make us both feel much better.”

“Maybe.” Her daughter had yet to look up or even at her. “Mama …”

“Yes?”

“Why don’t you think I can stand up for myself?”

“Oh, my lovely little one, you’re still young, you’re still learning, and I wouldn’t want anything to happen to you when I’m not there.” Maria started tossing the rolls into a bowl. “The last time you had to wrestle on your own, your arm was broken. No, we won’t have that again until -“

“When?” Bambi’s voice was loud and harsh. “Will you ever let me fight my own fights? Stand up for myself?”

“Of course but -“

“Then when? Tell me!”

The Boar of Italy, stubborn as her namesake, took a deep breath and turned.

“When you show me that you can make sound decisions without me there. When you can show me that you don’t need to tag me in to win a match or, perhaps, when you don’t make silly decisions like bargaining away our family honor to our worst enemy, just because you thought it would keep us safe.”

“Mama …” That last statement had stung Bambi, probably harder than Maria intended, but the girl had to toughen up and take responsibility for what she had done.

“You wonder why Pai Shi so quickly went for your head last night? That is why. And yet I should let you do what you want? Bah!”

“I did what I thought had to be done, mama! It may have been wrong but at least I did something!” The sudden steel in the teenager’s voice made Maria take a literal step back in surprise. “You were content to wallow and pine that we were too small to do anything. We would still be playing on strings instead of looking to cut them if Leilana hadn’t come along.”

Maria’s anger was bubbling up but it was matched by an equally great sense of doubt and sadness. She wanted to rage and yell, to shout down every point Bambi was making, but the problem was …

“You’re right.” Maria deflated, sitting down in the chair opposite her daughter. As quickly as it had come, the rage abated, leaving only the depression. “For all my shouting and pointing and complaining, we really accomplished nothing.”

Maria could hear Bambi’s chair move, followed by the limping footsteps of Bambi herself, coming to her side. Looking up finally, Maria caught the eyes of her daughter, now softened.

“Mama, I think we both messed up things.” She put a hand on Maria’s broad shoulder. “Maybe now we should try to fix them, right?”

“Yes, I suppose we should try.” Maria put her hand over Bambi’s, engulfing it. “I am sorry, sweetling.”

“So am I, mama.”

Pai Shi sat in a corner of her spartan room in the Silver Nugget, trying to meditate and clear her mind of the whirling thoughts in it. Failure and loss were things she was unaccustomed to dealing with and, yet, they seemed to be a constant when Leilana Ito was part of the equation. Not that the woman had beaten her directly in this case, not like their first encounter, but the difference was only slight. In the end, despite the odds against her, the Girl Hercules had won once more.

Unlike many others, the Chinese dancer didn’t give into petty jealousy. Instead, Pai focused on what had failed inside of herself. How had she herself failed last night and how could she resolve her own weakness?

The strained muscles in her leg and the sprained knee tried to force their pain into Pai Shi’s thoughts, but iron will and years of training resigned them to their own small box. The answer to Pai’s failures seemed obvious. First it was her pride, something with which she still struggled, but this latest defeat was because of anger. First at the betrayal of the youngest Giovanni then the lingering embers of hate that still existed in her mind towards Dana Harding.

It was a vain hope that one encounter had purged these feelings and her own meditations had proven fruitless. Pai wanted the answers to be within herself, to conquer her own problems on her own terms, but maybe, just maybe, the answer for once had to be sought out in others.

Gingerly, painfully, Pai Shi unfolded her legs and hobbled to her feet. She owed it to the alliance that they had formed to at least try.

Sunny Clover kicked the heavy bag with all her might. She tried to beat all the frustration and sadness out of her but it only seemed to build. The private gym Ms. Elise had given her to use was as cold and lonely as every other place Sunny roamed and so provided precious little relief from the darkness gnawing at her heart.

Ms. Elise wasn’t even there today, even though Sunny knew she was totally still in town. She had explained that she needed to provide training for Ms. Angela and that she was far too much a novice to be instructed alongside Sunny. Today, then, was left to Sunny to work by herself.

“Stupid Angela,” Sunny murmured to herself, leaning her sweating brow on the heavy bag. “It’s, like, totally not my fault she’s so green. Why am I getting punished for that?”

But what if it wasn’t because she was inexperienced? What if this was just the first step before Ms. Elise told her to get lost? Just a short time ago, the carrot of belonging, to get adopted into the Von Richter clan, had been dangled right outside of Sunny’s reach, but now it seemed to be gone entirely.

“Nuh-uh, Sunny baby, you’re not, like, gonna cry.” Sunny choked down her emotions, like Ms. Elise had taught her. “You can still do this, like, totally. You just have to beat ‘Lana and that’ll show ‘em!” Sunny began to smile, even as stray tears leaked out of her eyes. “That’ll show ‘em you belong, that you’re a Von Richter!”

With renewed vengeance, Sunny laid into the heavy bag.

The five of them sat in a tense silence around their usual table at the Silver Bell. Past the most basic of greetings and a quick round of orders, so far no one had offered to begin. Even the normally bombastic Maria was quite subdued. Well, enough of that, Leilana thought.

The Girl Hercules put her hands on the table, palm down, and pushed up to her feet, a movement that locked everyone’s eyes straight on her.

“Last night was difficult for all of us.” Leilana surprised herself, because the voice that came out was the strong one, the wrestler’s voice, something that usually only found itself in the confines of the ring. “I know there is much you all wish to say yet hold your tongue. Before you break that silence, I have one thing to say.

“Whatever passes between us, we are still friends. We still stand on the same side, the right side. I will keep fighting the Von Richters and all I ask is that you do not turn away from that one goal, no matter what else happens.

“Now, say what you need to say because we cannot let Angela do this to us again or we will surely fail.”

Trope of the Week: Clumsy Girl

jbgarner58:

More Tropes of the Week from Paige!

Originally posted on break the system:

She seems like the perfect girl. She���s cute, funny, and sweet. But her deep, dark flaw? She���s totally clumsy! This girl trips over her own two feet constantly, but luckily no one ever gets hurt. After nearly knocking you over on her way to work, she helps you pick up your papers and apologizes with a small smile. See? This girl���s not perfect. After all, she���s a klutz.

Why this can be bad: The problem with this trope is not in regards to the clumsiness itself, really. For those of us who are legitimately clumsy, we know that this is a character trait that results in many broken electronics, twisted ankles, and crying at your own inadequacy. I dropped my phone as I was walking out of the store I bought it from, got my other phone run over by a go-kart, and have somehow avoided grievous bodily harm despite���

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Sneak Peek: The Twelfth Labor Chapter 1

It’s that time again!�� With the final editing on Incorruptible winding down and the writing for The Twelfth Labor going full steam ahead, it’s time to give anyone interested a bit of a taste of the action and drama to come in Three Seconds to Legend!

Chapter 1 Wrangling the Mares

Leilana Ito, also known to the roaring masses outside of the squared circle as the Girl Hercules, hit the brightly-colored turnbuckle hard. Her head, already throbbing, snapped back against the padded steel and the world went cloudy for a moment. The garish colors of the enormous circus big top surrounding the ring and the stands only made the sensation worse.

Ingrained instincts made Leilana move, still sore from the beating sustained at the hands of the giantess Rose Bull just a week prior. Rolling right, the Hawaiian barely avoided further pain as Dirty Dana Harding, the woman Leilana loved and sadly one of her opponents, crashed into the space the Girl Hercules once occupied.

“There are no friends in the ring, only in the locker room,” Grandfather had told Leilana during her training and it seemed everyone else was trained the same.

When this had all started five minutes ago here at Circus Circus right on the Las Vegas strip, the five of them had still been a team. Then as the ring announcer had announced their arrival to the ring one by one, all of Leilana’s friends seemed to turn into hungry wolves. Each of those wolves caught scent of what they most desired in the form of that briefcase hanging above the ring. When the bell had finally rung, no time was wasted before mother fought daughter, partner brawled with partner, and lover clashed with lover.

For now, despite her reservations, Leilana had to be like those other wolves or she would be the first course of their dinner. Dana stumbled back from her own impact with the corner, clutching her bad shoulder. Before the Texas brawler could recover, Leilana wrapped her muscular arms around Dana’s waist and heaved with all of her might, slamming the Dirty one’s neck and shoulders into the hard canvas with a German suplex.

With Dana stunned for the moment, Leilana pushed to her hands and knees, trying to regroup and reassess the chaos around her. Leilana couldn’t deny the cruel brilliance of it all. To force your greatest enemies to face each other instead of you was a classic tactic on its own. It was the fact the Von Richter sisters had thought of the irresistible lure, the ultimate prize, to bring out the worst in all of them that was genius.

As Leilana got to her feet, her eyes flashed once more to the briefcase suspended by a steel cable above the ring. The chance of gold that case contained had been the ultimate spark, the insurance that this would turn into the carnage that Angela and Elise desired. For her, it was freedom, a chance to complete the run of the gauntlet the Von Richters had forced her into.

It took effort to turn from that case to focus on the more immediate danger. It wasn’t just Dana, already recovering slowly, but every one of her teammates Leilana had to deal with. All dangerous, all skilled, and all hungry to win. Across the ring, the Giovanni family, the powerful Maria and her impossibly agile daughter Bambi, executed a swift double-team clothesline on the last of their number, Pai Shi, her pain concealed by her stylized Chinese lion mask. She could only wonder what that case meant to each of them.

There was an opening with Dana and Pai both down on the mat and Leilana pushed herself into a charge. Neither Giovanni caught her lumbering approach as Maria found herself, much to her shock, on the receiving end of a hard thrust kick from her own daughter. The impact didn’t knock the bulky black woman over, but she did stagger backwards. What did knock the Boar of Italy over, her and her daughter alike, were Leilana’s arms as she lashed out with twin lariats at the end of her charge.

For just a moment, there was relative silence in the ring aside from the roaring, jeering masses surrounding the ring. Leilana shot a quick glance around the ring despite the urge to capitalize, to destroy. No matter what her grandfather had told her, trained her to believe, this still seemed so wrong.

It was one thing if this had been a simple match, brought about because of rankings or the like, but this was simply just another attack on all of them. Still, she had no choice. Her freedom and the safety of her family rested on getting that contract, something that wouldn’t happen simply by beating up her friends … opponents.

They wouldn’t be down long so Leilana ducked down and rolled under the ring ropes to the floor below. It was time to get a ladder.

Angela Von Richter smiled as the five women in the ring below seemed hellbent on destroying one another. Yes, the Ito girl had danced through every obstacle before her, battered, bruised, but triumphant. Tonight might not turn out any different, but that no longer mattered. There was a greater plan at work, a greater destiny to fulfill, and tonight would extract a terrible cost from all of their enemies struggling in the squared circle. That cost was all that Angela wanted and she was certain to get it.

“I have never been one for circuses, even as a child, but you have certainly shown me how they can be entertaining, dear sister,” Elise Von Richter, lips pressed into a thin smile, said, sitting in the box to her right. Angela regarded her sister with an angelic smile of her own.

“It all comes down to the quality of the performance, Elise.” She gestured to her lover and bodyguard, Sebastian Kruger, for another glass of wine. “There is always joy to see your enemies fight themselves at your command.”

“To think, there is so much more to come.”

Angela nodded, feeling a tinge of that red-eyed madness that seemed to run in the Von Richter bloodline. Sympathy for the carnage below? Most likely, as the Ito girl muscled a closed ladder into the ring. Now things would get good and properly bloody.

The Giovanni were still lingering on the mat and Pai Shi had rolled to a far corner to recover. That was good for Dana Harding as she got to her feet, rubbing at her bad shoulder. First a bullet, then Sunny Clover’s ‘tender ministrations’, now a straight collision into the corner and the mat, it all made Harding wonder if that shoulder would last through this match.

What else was she going to do though, lay down and stay out of this? Still, just what did this match mean to the Dirty one? Was she causing all this havoc just to prove that she wasn’t too old, that she had one last chance for glory? Dana shook those thoughts out of her mind. There wasn’t time for them right now.

Leilana had just rolled back into the ring, hefting the utility ladder plucked from ringside. Inexperience was the Girl Hercules’ greatest weakness and, despite that twinge of regret, Dana was going to take advantage of it as she ate the distance between them in quick steps. It was way too early in this dance to bring the ladders in, something her girlfriend (the word still sounded both wrong and exciting in Dana’s mind) was about to find out.

Distracted by her burden, Ito didn’t catch a glimpse of Dana as she turned back to the center of the ring. With the ladder held up across her chest, she was an easy target for the Dirty one, who lashed out with a big cowboy boot. The impact clanged into the ladder, thrusting it hard into Leilana’s chest, smashing her between the steel and the ring ropes. There was a loud gasp of pain and the ladder clattered to the mat as Ito clutched her chest in agony.

Dana avoided looking in the Hawaiian’s eyes as she unloaded a hard punch to the lingering bruise in Leilana’s jaw. Her head snapped hard to the side, leaving the Girl Hercules totally defenseless. The veteran found herself pausing, those persistent questions trying to burrow through twenty years of instincts. Another shake of the head and Dana set her jaw. She had a job to do and she did it by scooping Leilana up off the mat with a big grunt before slamming the short-but-stout girl down on top of the fallen ladder.

The shriek of pain as Leilana’s back hit hard onto the bare steel sent a shiver up Dana’s spine. Every fiber of her being was that of a fighter and, normally, to hear that would simply make her fight harder, to finish off her foe. This sound, though, that cry penetrated those fibers, straight to Dana’s heart. She stood there, uncertain, something she knew was suicide in this kind of match with so many opponents.

Sure enough, it was no surprise to her rational mind when a battle cry caught Dana’s attention just a split-second before Pai Shi’s scarlet boots smashed into the side of her head in a flying dropkick. The impact send Dana crashing to the mat.

“There is no time for sentiment, Dana Harding.” Pai’s voice was a harsh whisper as she picked the Texan up off the mat. Before Dana could struggle, she felt a hard knee slam into her breastbone, almost taking her off her feet. The whole sequence concluded with a spin as Dana’s perspective whirled until all she could see was the big top of Circus Circus above her and all she could feel was the exploding pain in her neck from the Lioness’ neck breaker.

Even through the pain running up and down her spine, Dana knew Pai Shi was right. There was no time to be sentimental or kind or merciful. Still, she couldn’t shake it even as she tried to recover. Dana knew now what she had been fighting for and it paled in comparison with the needs of Leilana. Pride didn’t trump freedom. As Dana tried to rally herself, she couldn’t help but wonder why the others fought as they did? How could it be more important?

For a moment, Leilana had been overcome by the explosion of pain. It was the incessant voice in her head that made her regain her senses. Before it had been her grandfather’s voice or Dana’s. Now it was her own. Whatever its identity, it cried out in warning and Leilana tried to respond. Her battered body couldn’t move in time as she felt the large hands of Maria Giovanni grab her by the hair and right arm.

“I am sorry, bambina, but this is my chance to show the world, to take back my place from you,” the Italian rumbled as Leilana felt herself hauled to her feet. It was just like Dana had told her. Maria Giovanni still felt displaced, overshadowed and now had the chance to fight back against her percieved replacement.

The Boar seemed to take her time to aim her attack, vital seconds that let Leilana’s head clear. What she saw was one of Maria’s massive arms reared back just as she yanked on Ito’s own trapped arm, ready to take off her head with one clean clothesline.

Speed was not her strength but adrenaline surged as Leilana forced herself to duck, the clothesline cutting the air above her head as she passed by on Maria’s right side. Her foe off-balance, Leilana rode that surge of strength for all it was worth, latching on to the Boar by her waist and one leg. There was a moment of struggle, raw muscle contending against superior height and bulk, but the Girl Hercules strained harder. Heaving Maria up into the air, Leilana forced her back down with that same velocity, slamming with the large Italian over her outstretched knee.

Before Leilana could slide the Boar onto the mat and follow up, there was a flash of multicolored motion as Bambi Giovanni, almost as short as Leilana herself and a fraction of the weight, flew through the air at the two of them. Leilana flinched, raising her arms to guard her face from the inevitable blow, a blow that never came. Instead, there was a shock that ran through her knee as Maria spasmed from another hard impact.

“I’ll show you, mama, I can stand on my own!” The shrill cry from the teenaged wrestler sounded all too familiar, echoing that argument Leilana had with her father, Kentaro, when he tried to ban her from the ring. It felt like a lifetime ago, even if it had been little over a year. The leaping leg drop Bambi had dropped over her mother’s throat was all too immediate and spoke volumes for her reasons to fight today. Still, despite her mother’s protective smother being her primary target, Leilana could already see Bambi’s eyes turn to a new target.

True enough, before Leilana was even back to a full vertical base, Bambi had sprung back up and was on her. The elbow smash to Leilana’s jaw slipped past her slow guard and tagged that same swelling bruise Dana had punched, magnifying the pain. As Leilana staggered back, holding her chin, she felt slim but strong legs wrap around her neck and start to squeeze.

Bambi, weighing down Leilana like the proverbial albatross, bucked and twisted, trying to flip the bigger woman over. Despite the growing pressure and violent movements, the Girl Hercules refused to move, finding the strength to plant her feet like an tree. Even with Bambi’s thighs obscuring her vision, Leilana could see that Maria was still writhing in pain on the mat, while Dana and Pai Shi were fighting back and forth across the ring. The ladder was still sitting there, alone and unattended.

Trying to worm her hands into the scissor hold to pry the agile teenager loose, Leilana felt Bambi shift and move until she was sitting square on Leilana’s shoulders. The Hawaiian grit her teeth as the pressure redoubled; Bambi’s new goal seemed to be to try to cinch in some kind of sleeper hold. There was a cry of exertion as Bambi’s legs flexed and curled as her hands found purchase under Leilana’s chin, prying at her head, trying to expose the cartoid and jugular to attack.

The ladder. It was Leilana’s best hope as Bambi poured on the pressure. The Girl Hercules could already feel the sleeper starting to effect her as the edges of her vision started to gray. She staggered a few steps towards the ladder. Bambi’s attention still seemed to be focused on the hold and if she foresaw what was coming, she made no move to avoid it. Rallying herself, Leilana made a sudden move, turning and leaping up into the air. Falling backwards, it was Bambi that slammed into the ladder this time, not Leilana, though she was still a bit rattled by the impact. The hold, predictably, was broken.

Shaking the fog out of her vision, Leilana forced the pain down and made herself rise to her feet once more. This had to end and end quickly or whoever did win would be in no shape to face Sunny Clover, the Von Richter’s hand-picked champion. Sunny Clover, once Leilana’s best friend and now betrayer.

Dana reversed the wristlock before Pai Shi could drop an elbow into her screaming shoulder. The Dirty one was hard pressed by the dynamic Lioness and, to be honest, it was age. Age and inactivity, months of recovery caused by Sunny Clover and twenty years of putting her body on the line, all together was turning what should have been an even fight into a losing engagement. Still, she wasn’t going to roll over and let Pai walk over her. Neither of them would settle for that. Maybe Pai was like her, fighting out of sheer stubbornness and for a last chance to recapture the past.

Dana let out a yowl as the Lioness unleashed a hard kick to her side. Painful, yes, but the yowl was mostly for show, to play up the hurt. Pai, as much a veteran as Dana was, fell for it all the same. With a vague smirk, she chambered another kick and launched it at the seemingly hurt ribs, only for the Dirty one to tense, absorbing the kick without even a flinch. Before the Lioness could retract her leg, Dana trapped the ankle under her arm.

“My turn, Ah think,” Dana grunted as she slammed a fist down on Pai’s outstretched knee. The Lioness refused to even grunt in pain, but the fact she hadn’t instantly retaliated told Dana she was hurting. Keeping up the momentum before her aching body gave in to its desire to stop, Harding stepped in before slamming a palm into Pai’s chest. Between the trapped leg and the sudden impact, the Lioness fell back, hitting the mat hard, one leg still in Dana’s clutches.

Dana reared back a cowboy boot, casting a quick glance around the ring. That same boot slammed home into the base of Pai’s thigh as the Texan finished her assessment of the ring. Maria was slowly rising from whatever pummeling she had endured while Leilana lifted little Bambi up over her head in a full military press. She could read Lei all too well, even as Dana was driving yet another boot into the trapped Lioness’ leg. Lei was hurt, hurt pretty bad, but that fighting spirit deep down was keeping her moving. Well, she was fine for now, time to deal with Dana’s own problem.

As the mat shuddered from Bambi’s unfortunate landing, Dana cocked an elbow and dropped it with all the weight in her nearly six-foot tall frame right down into Pai Shi’s knee. There was a sound almost like a hiss through Pai’s clenched teeth. Now that one had hurt. The Dirty one twisted the still-trapped ankle, maneuvering for a knee lock to keep the dynamic dancer grounded.

The blinding impact to the side of Dana’s head punctuated Pai’s objection to the idea. Despite the obvious agony she was in, the Lioness somehow ignored it all, driving her free foot into Dana’s head once, then twice. The second kick knocked Dana’s grip loose as she rolled away, clutching her skull.

Dana pushed up to her knees, trying to find her foe before it was too late. The sudden smack of boot leather to her chin told her it was far too late, though there was some satisfaction in the grunt of pain that Pai let out. Dana had, indeed, hurt that leg pretty badly, she thought through a gray haze, swaying back on her calves, right before the Lioness dropped her signature ax kick right on the top of her head.

The Dirty one wasn’t quite aware of her face hitting the canvas as she slumped forward though she was distantly aware of some loud clang. Probably someone hitting someone with a ladder or being thrown into one. Dana also heard Pai make a snort of derision above her. The two had a long history, back before Dana had turned into the better person she was today, and though much of that was behind them, there was still traces of those ill feelings remaining. Maybe that’s why Pai fell for this game. One last shot to settle an old and painful score.

It was that derision, that act of disrespect that rallied Dana’s will. She would have called it stubborn Texas pride, but whatever it was, it made her move. Pai had turned away, moving in on an unaware Leilana who was setting up the ladder. Dana pushed up to her feet and lunged, grabbing the Lioness by the chin. Utter surprise led a total lack of defense as Harding fell back once more, dragging Pai back by the chin, impaling her on Dana’s raised knees. She flopped to the mat off of Dana, floored by the appropriately named backstabber.

Was Lei nuts? A ladder match with so many people might go quicker as injuries mounted, but this was still too early to go up that thing. Why would -

Dana knew the answer before she even finished thinking the question. Leilana wanted this over before someone really got hurt, even if it put her own self at risk. God damn that heart of hers. The Dirty one pushed herself up to her feet, despite the protests of her body and the complaint of injury.

“Why won’t they let me fight you?” Sunny mumbled to herself, pacing in her dressing room. “I could, like, totally have beat you tonight.” The match progressed on the monitor, but the Californian gymnast had so wanted to be at ringside to watch. Ms. Elise had denied that request. There would be no distractions or interruptions of their precious little set-up.

Maybe they wanted them all to get beat up and that was cool, she supposed. But still, it was like they didn’t trust Sunny to win. Ms. Elise had been training her for months and look at all the people she had whipped. Wasn’t Sunny Clover, the Perfect Ten, the champion? Hadn’t she trashed Dana Harding? What about those two armed mercs dudes in Oklahoma?

Sunny flopped down into a chair and felt a sob build in her throat. She did everything she was asked to, all to belong, all to justify what she had done to Leilana, what she had done to Max Maxwell, her old boyfriend. Despite all of that, deep down, she knew the Von Richters still didn’t trust her to finish this, despite all of that.

Sunny Clover realized that she was alone and, despite all that she now had, the fame, the championship, the money, it all felt worthless. All she could think to do about it was to cry.

Leilana hadn’t wanted to go as far as she did, but it was better to be hurt the two of them now than to injure them permanently in the long run. Bambi was still laid out on the far side of the ring from the tremendous throw Leilana had given her and Maria leaned like a side of beef on the ropes, stunned from a ladder upside her head. That self-same ladder was now set.

Taking a deep breath, Leilana put one of her neo-Grecian sandals on the first rung. To her surprise, there wasn’t a sudden interruption, no side swipe, no attack from behind, so she pushed up and started to climb. The canvas mat itself wasn’t the most stable of surfaces for a ladder and the agony than ran up her body made what should have been a few moments of climbing seem to take forever. It suddenly became much more stable when a sudden weight balanced on the other half of the ladder.

Dana had started up the opposite side. There was no time left for pain or doubt. Leilana pushed herself harder, higher. The Texan had a huge height advantage that would eat the few rungs of lead that Leilana had. This was a game of inches and this was one time Leilana couldn’t come up short.

The Girl Hercules crested the top of the ladder at the same time the Dirty one did. Both of them were panting, exhausted, hurt. As green eyes gazed into blue, Leilana felt herself freeze up for one long moment. Could she do what had to be done right now? Would it end here or would the violence about to be unleashed linger beyond this match?

“Lei -” Dana stopped herself before she started, cut off by a sad shake of the head. The Texan nodded in reply sharply, then lunged for the briefcase.

Dana wanted to tell Lei to just take the damn case. How could she have even entertained the notion to keep the woman she had bled for, had been shot for, who she truly loved, from her freedom? It was only Leilana’s look, the fact she shared that same undiluted competitive spirit with Pai Shi, that made Dana make her move. Lei might not have wanted to break one of her friends but she damn sure wasn’t going to let Dana just give up either.

Lei grabbed Dana’s wrist before it could touch the bottom of the case and wrenched it painfully to the side. With her other hand, Lei got a firm grasp on the lapels of the Dirty one’s leather vest. Dana stuffed her free hand into the Hawaiian’s face, trying to worm into the eyes, the nose, the soft spot of the jaw, anywhere to inflict the most pain.

The struggle continued painfully, almost an even match, see-sawing back and forth on the top of the ladder. The fact remained, though, that this was indeed a game on inches. Dana had the superior position, longer reach, and better leverage. Without a stable platform, Lei just couldn’t bring her full unmatched strength to bear, a fact made evident when Dana managed to push just a little closer. Her fingers crawled up Leilana’s face and found those pressure points to lock on a single ‘Dirty Digger’, Dana’s claw hold finishing move. It was with her bad arm, but it would still do the job.

As Dana tightened her grip, pulling a loud shriek of pain from Leilana’s lips, she saw Pai and Maria both on their feet, both with the same idea. Better to knock the ladder over and reset the whole damn match than let either Dana or Leilana win. They rushed across the ring and there was now only a second to make a critical decision.

As Pai and Maria crashed into the side of the ladder, Dana feigned weakness in her bad arm and, instead, pulled up with her other arm that had been grabbed around Leilana’s toga-style top.

“Get it,” was all Dana had time to say in a harsh whisper. She could only hope that somehow instinct would take over as the ladder began to fall.

The horrible pain was over in a flash. Leilana had withstood, even broken, the ‘Dirty Diggers’ before, but it would have easily held her back long enough to Dana to grab the case. She didn’t even understand the harsh whisper, but Lei did feel the pull on her top and, more importantly, the dangerous sideways tilt of the ladder.

Everything seemed to slow for that one moment as her powerful legs pushed upward, a surge of raw might. The ladder was already falling; there was no more need to be gentle. The briefcase seemed to zoom into view and then it was there. So surprising was it’s sudden arrival that Leilana almost didn’t grab it. Fortunately, instinct took over as she wrapped her arms around it, still suspended in the air, like a life preserver.

Below her, there was a crash of steel, flesh, and bone. Risking a glance down, trying to figure her own landing, Leilana gasped. Dana Harding had become tangled in the ladder as it fell, collapsed into an unmoving heap. Pai Shi looked painfully up at the hanging Leilana while Maria seemed to come to herself, rushing over to where Dana was pinned.

That is when the hook gave way under Leilana’s bulk. Even in free-fall, knowing what was about to happen, Leilana hugged the briefcase to her breast. All of this pain and suffering would be pointless if she didn’t manage to hold -

The sudden conclusion of Leilana’s fall drove both her breath and consciousness straight out of her.

“Simply beautiful.” Angela’s smile was genuine as Rita Sanchez, the referee, rushed to check on the winner of the match.

“Indeed, Angela,” Elise added. “Truly, the Ito girl is a remarkable specimen. I sometimes wonder if there wasn’t some way to use her instead of destroy her.”

“You gave her the chance yourself, sister, and she turned her back on us.” Angela rose to her feet, giving the ever-waiting Sebastian a kiss on the cheek. “For all the havoc she has sown in our orderly world, the dishonor she laid at your feet, and the death of Grandfather, there must be a reckoning. No second chances.”

“Truly.” Elise stood as well, walking to the edge of the box. For Angela, there was nothing else important to see, despite the other matches to entertain the masses. “After all, I look forward far more to facing her again than I would ever look forward to fighting by her side.”

“In due time,” Angela nodded. “Your plan is impeccable and, with my own special touches, we will let it play out.”

“I suggest then that we retire early.” Elise turned from the clean-up of the carnage in the ring. “Tomorrow, we must begin your training.”

Though Angela did not look forward to it, athletics and fighting were her sister’s strengths not hers, she knew there was little other choice. It was how their family had quelled and controlled the raw anger that seemed to be their blood curse.

“Of course, you are most correct. Afterward, we will continue your training.”

Elise arched an eyebrow in surprise but then smiled her cold, hard smile.

“As you wish, dear sister. As you wish.”

When Leilana came to, Rita Sanchez and one of the ring doctors were hovering over her. The briefcase was still clutched to her chest.

“Ito?” Sanchez asked. “Can you see? Can you understand me?”

“Where is Dana?” It was the only thing she wanted to know.

“She’s okay … mostly. You’re the one we’re -“

“I am fine,” Leilana muttered, “I won, did I not?”

That affirmation wasn’t as comforting as she thought it would be.

Starving Review: Suicide Note (Davis Series Book 1) by Don Cox

Suicide Note (Davis Series Book 1) by Dan Cox (Amazon, Goodreads)

Combining genres and their elements is a recipe as old as there has been literature.�� In fact, I’ve reviewed several, some great, some not-so-great.�� So when Suicide Note hit my table billed as a romantic suspense novel, I was certainly intrigued.�� As any long-time reader knows, I’m a sucker for a romantic dinner, not to mention a lover of thrills and chills.�� So, sharpening my knife and fork, I dove in, unsure of what I would actually taste but filled with gusto none the less.�� So what did this Starving Reviewer find inside this treat?

Before we find out the answer, I must, as required by culinary law, report on the Starving Review rules:

I attempt to rate every book from the perspective of a fan of the genre.
I attempt to make every review as spoiler-free as possible.

Before I just come out and say it, let me put forth a disclaimer:�� For those of you new to my reviews, let me tell you that my more critical reviews tend to be longer than my positive ones.�� With that being said, if you don’t have a lot of time to peruse this review and want to get to the rating, you had better skip down there now.

With that done, let’s just be blunt.�� Suicide Note is not a good book.�� Frankly, I could do my job by simply stating that and then giving my rating and felt my job is done.�� However, as a literary cook myself, I know it would be a disservice not only to the readers but the author if I did so.�� Criticism, even if it is extensive, is what drives us to create better and better dishes in the literary kitchen and, for that reason, I will be extensive and perhaps blunt.�� My apologies ahead of time.

First, the language.�� No, I am not a Grammar Nazi and I certainly have typos I continue to weed out of my own published works.�� Still, there comes a point where grammar and style can seriously impinge on the reader’s enjoyability of the book.�� At no point does Suicide (no, I won’t make the easy and obvious joke) become unreadable but quite often the slap-dash writing and lack of attention to grammar will hit you hard.�� For example, almost every time someone says ‘I am’, it is contracted to ‘I’m’.�� What’s the problem?�� Well, then someone (and this happens fairly often) simply states ‘I am’, that’s the problem.�� People who excel in the kitchen are excellent ‘cookers’.�� There are no butts or rears or asses, just endless ‘booties’.�� Sentence structure is all over the place.�� On top of that, the dialogue is wooden and riddled with odd artifacts of speech that don’t correspond to how most people speak in modern New York City.�� In addition, many words are overused.�� I know that thesaurus abuse is a common problem but on the other end of the spectrum it is just as bad.

Second, pacing.�� The titular ‘suicide note’ isn’t introduced until halfway through the book, forcing the suspense part of the plot to be compressed into the back half.�� Even then, the real rising action doesn’t begin for quite a few more chapters.�� It doesn’t help that the wooden and flat characterization spoils any real building tension.�� We are told many things about the characters in this book and, in a faux-pas I am seeing quite often, given tons of direct ‘third-person-omniscient’ brain downloads from them, but their actions rarely line up with their reputations.�� This kind of informed characterization just leaves readers bored and confused, trying to coincide the actions the characters take with their informed personalities and just become frustrated with it.�� Even when the action does move forward, there is never a real sense of threat or dramatic pay-off.

Third, mystery.�� Kudos to Mr. Cox for the bravery of actually writing out the ‘encrypted mystery’ element of the book.�� Unfortunately, it reveals a serious issue with actually doing that: few people can create something so mysterious that it backs up what the plot establishes about it.�� The mystery item that was described, something that flummoxes multiple characters for days on end, was something I deciphered (just as a lowly and hunger-addled reviewer) in five minutes, ten minutes tops.�� Instantly, it shattered what suspension of disbelief I had left.�� If Mr. Cox had simply said that the item in question was obscured by some complex encryption instead of actually detailing it, things would have been fine.�� Instead, we have a mystery worked up with flavors of a Gordian Knot but really it’s as flavorful and interesting as a basic slipknot.

Fourth, characterization.�� I’ve already touched on this but let’s be crystal clear.�� Characters are one of the core basic ingredients of any culinary masterpiece.�� Suicide Note‘s characters have all the texture and taste of cardboard with a few drops of artificial flavoring added in.�� It is all so very frustrating.�� It doesn’t help that there are some very broad things said about both men and women in this book, things that border on the line of sexist and off-putting.�� All the men in this book espouse the virtues of beauty and the importance of a vigorous sex-life to the point that even the supposedly virtuous men open ogle beautiful women while all the women are presented as wildly emotional and often irrational in action, all chalked up to simply ‘being women’.�� Okay, so it may actually BE sexist.�� And that leads to even flatter characters.�� It’s the problem of making characters based on WHAT they are instead of WHO they are.�� If all men have a certain baseline characterization, then all male characters suddenly become a lot more alike.

Fifth, plot.�� There are simply elements of the plot that are poorly explained or make little sense.�� Major crimes are made to disappear by the end of the book.�� Corrupt police become hailed as super cops.�� People are able to disappear, apparently have no issues spending money or going to the hospital, but remain undetected by anyone.�� There is a serious infusion of ‘Dim Bulb’ brand flavoring or else the plot just fails to work.�� Conclusions are jumped, logic is ignored, and it just gets nuts.�� It’s especially disheartening because this plot COULD be made to work with some mechanical fixes, adding a little more doubt and mystery, and with a complete character edit.

And I’m spent.�� Am I being overly critical?�� Those who experienced this meal with me vicariously as I shouted, food dribbling out of my mouth, would say no.�� I do hope sincerely that Mr. Cox takes this dinner back to the kitchen … the mixture of romance and suspense could be incredibly potent and flavorful with love and care … but for now, I can only suggest that, unless you want a half-baked, sexist, and meandering ‘romance’ with only the bare hints of suspense, you stay away from Suicide Note.�� If you have any sensitivity to sexism against either men or women, double dose that ‘stay away’.

FINAL VERDICT: ** (What promise this tasty mixture of genres had is overwhelmed by poor pacing, an illogical plot, and the foul tastes of sexism both towards men and women!)

General News: OMG SICK! a.k.a. I Slept A Whole Day!

Wow.

So I and everyone I knew ever got the flu over the Christmas holiday.�� This is not an unusual thing.�� What I didn’t realize is that it would take me weeks to fully recover.�� I normally bounce back fairly quickly from illness but this time I guess it wasn’t to be.

Where am I going with this meandering mess?�� Well, Sunday, when I intended to get a fresh review up and do some other site updates, my body betrayed me and said ‘First, you shall stay up for 24 hours straight, then you will enter a 24 hour coma, after which you shall arise like a phoenix from the ashes!’.�� And so that’s what I did.

I now feel much better but am now a bit behind on things.�� Never fear, though, there shall be a fresh Starving Review up later today and expect a constant stream of new articles and book updates this week.

Thanks for hanging in there!�� Good luck and good writing!

General News: Starving Review Requests are now OPEN!

I’ve slept off my New Year’s margarita and need some fresh literary food to pad my stomach!  I am now back to accepting a full slate of requests for Starving Reviews!

If you want to refresh yourself on the guidelines, head on over to the Starving Review page *here*

Good luck and good writing!

Sneak Peek: The cover art for Incorruptible

Here it is, delivered as always by the skilled hand of my good friend Felipe de Barros!  With the manuscript entering its second full revision, it is looking like we might really make a January or February release date.  Even though this is the end of this trilogy, I think this is far from the end of my writing stories in the world of The Push Chronicles but I think with a world that’s spawning a lot of interesting characters, it may be time to broaden out to a more anthology-based format.  We’ll see!

Until then, enjoy the art!

Starving Review: Nine Lives of Adam Blake by Ryan Gladney

Nine Lives of Adam Blake by Ryan Gladney (Amazon, Goodreads)

It doesn’t matter if you are a literary foodie sampling a wide variety of gourmet morsels from around the literary world or a mad scrabbling Starving Reviewer simply trying to get enough to eat.  The fact remains that if you don’t take a moment to cleanse your palate between dishes, you can turn it into one big mush.  After my recent spate of undercooked, overspiced dishes, I was about ready turn a blind eye to the next book on my plate.  Thank the literary Gods that I took that long drink of water, swished, and spat or else I would have, well, let’s save that for the actual review, shall we?

Speaking of that, let us recite the sacred Starving Review creed:

I attempt to rate every book from the perspective of a fan of the genre.
I attempt to make every review as spoiler-free as possible.

Nine Lives is a sublimely tasty treat.  There, it’s said, it’s out of the way.  Yes, it’s not like me, one who saves that crucial final verdict for last in an effort to sustain some culinary drama, but I find there’s no need for me to do such when a literary dish is just so honestly good-tasting.  However, we won’t leave it at that because to do so would be a disservice to Mr. Gladney’s work in the kitchen.  What makes Nine Lives so delightful on the tongue then?

Let’s be frank: a book like this that delves so directly into metaphysics and the like can very easily turn sour.  It’s only a small step from the delicate flavors of pontification and exploration into the rank notes of arrogance and stubbornness.  Add to that the dramatic difficulties that can be faced by approaching subjects such as life, death, and reincarnation and still holding a cohesive and driving plot steady and you can see why it is so easy to mess up the recipe.  Nine Lives dances through these rough culinary waters with ease.

The narrative remains rock solid throughout the entire book and that narrative and plot keeps you invested, nibbling through bite after bite, never hitting a clump of philosophy or an underdone mess of metaphysics.  It’s a smooth blend the whole way.  It’s well paced, well written, and keeps a strong and consistent voice throughout.  The characters themselves, something that can be left on the back burner in tales of this sort, are prominent and well-realized, providing an important focal point for the plot itself.

As for the metaphysical parts, Mr. Gladney’s thoughts and insights were nuanced and well-presented.  It never felt ham-fisted or shoved down the throat.  To add a certain extra note of joy to this particular eater, Gladney approaches the main philosophical wrinkle of the piece from many sides without declaring any one side the ‘correct’ or ‘winning’ side instead illustrating what each mindset has to offer and the problems each can present, showing a certain open-mindedness without going so far as to be a doormat to conflicting ideas.

So, in closing, this Starving Reviewer can only say that Nine Lives of Adam Blake is an insightful, well-written book, weaving a nearly perfect blend of philosophy, metaphysics, drama, and romance to produce a delightful meal.  I would happily recommend you give this one a try and I look forward to Mr. Gladney’s next book.

FINAL VERDICT: ***** (A metaphysical medley of tastes that never loses sight of what makes books good: story and character!)

General News: 2014 blogging in review

The WordPress.com stats helper monkeys prepared a 2014 annual report for this blog.

Here’s an excerpt:

A San Francisco cable car holds 60 people. This blog was viewed about 2,800 times in 2014. If it were a cable car, it would take about 47 trips to carry that many people.

Click here to see the complete report.

General News: Back to Work Tomorrow

Vacation is almost over.  I will be on the road and back at the homestead tomorrow.   With that comes a piping hot Starving Review and, in a couple of days, the opening for new submissions.

That’s not all though!  I have new cover art for the next book, some sneak peek chapters, and more musings.  Truly, we will be back in business.

Good luck and goid writing!