Posts Tagged ‘ #Sammus ’

04/13/15 Snippet and Update

Hey all, how’ve you been doing?

Been a while since I checked in so I thought I’d post an update out into the universe and let you all know I’ve been well. Things have slowed down a bit with my writing the past 2 weeks with work picking up due to the spring season. Writing will slow down a bit more these next 5 weeks as i’m taking more classes for this semester of class. In the mean time, if you need something to read that I’m working on or want to support me please drop by here and do the following in some way:

Share a link to the blog, send me art to potentially post and go along with my stories, email me (Majinwiru@gmail.com), comment on my blog posts! Tweet or share the links on facebook!

 

Anything you guys can do to share or create word of mouth is certainly appreciated it. In m y journey as an author I’m trying to maximize my potential and become the best I can be. Part of that journey is not only working my tail off to become an excellent writer but developing support and a community to support that hard work!
In other news, one of my favorite people in the world Sammus has restocked more of her gear! Show some support by going over here

Sammus in her new Red tee

The new Red Sammus Tee

and buying a few things! Enough of my yammering though, here’s the snippet!

 

*********

 

“Hurry it up,” muttered Cross, glancing around at the relatively empty back street the van was creeping down.

“I’m keeping it at precisely the speed limit,” replied Exposition. “Are you asking me to break the law?”

“Yes!” replied Cross. “I have a date!”

“Really?” Exposition stated conversationally. “Who with?”

“Cindy in R&D!” Cross growled. He pointed to the back of the van. “I’d like to get there before that damn thing kills us!”

“Relax,” said Henry calmly. “It’s sitting in a six-inch casing of negatanium. That should mute all such energies to next-to-nothing. Why do you think Akamatsu was able to finish the U-ray without incident?”

Michael considered it more important to ask why Akamatsu Industries Ltd. had immediately had a Buddhist Monk and a Shinto Priest on the premises to exorcise them. Or why they had broken out into a celebration as the van rolled out of sight. “I’d call spontaneous combustion an incident,” he muttered.

“No scientific method at all,” Exposition stated disdainfully. “Would you rather we not build a U-ray?”

“Of course not,” Cross stated uncertainly. “The cause of peace demands it. I know that.”

The cause of peace had in fact demanded that SHIELD build some of the most terrifyingly deadly and destructive weapons in the world, thus serving it by reducing the number of pesky living people who could be at times less than peaceable.

Exposition turned down a road. “Hmm,” he muttered. “Road block up ahead…”

Cross started. “In a warehouse district?”

Exposition shrugged. “Accidents happen everywhere.” He slowed the van into a stop, and leaned out the window. A pair of policemen stood there. “Pardon me, gentlemen,” Exposition stated calmly. “May I ask why you’ve set up a road block here?”

“Certainly,” said an apparent policeman. “To stop you SHIELD dogs!” At that moment, a horde of men in green and yellow bodysuits surrounded the van. The two policeman quickly removed their uniforms, revealing similar outfits. “Well, well. It seems our information has panned out beautifully,” said one. “Now, hand over the U-ray so it may used for the glorification of HYDRA!” He raised his fist, an action imitated by his fellows. “Hail HYDRA! If you cut off one head—”

At that moment a large vehicle that looked like a corkscrew on wheels burrowed out of the ground. A group of men and women wearing rather bulky brown environmental suits topped by funnel-shaped helmets emerged. “Halt inferiors!” said one. “The U-ray will be claimed not by SHIELD or HYDRA, but by Advanced Idea Mechanics! Hail, AIM! The future shall be ours through tech—”

“Oh give it a rest, science boy!” muttered a HYDRA member. “Everyone knows you AIM flunkies are useless in a fight.”

Another one snorted. “Right. Just go back to your slide rule, flathead, and leave world-conquering to the professionals.”

“And what will you do, squidman?” asked an AIM member loudly. “Hold some nation hostage? ‘Cause that’s gotten such great results! At least we’ll be able to do something with the U-ray!”

“Hey, don’t knock our methods!” cried the first HYDRA member. “We’ve just been having a run of bad luck…”

“For sixty years? That’s some run!” shouted the AIM member. “Why do you think we left? We got sick of nothing getting done.”

“I thought you left because the giant head told you to,” muttered the second HYDRA member.

“Hey, don’t make fun of MODOK!” cried the AIM member. “He’s not just a giant head! He’s got arms—and legs too!” He stepped forward, looking ready to swing.

Another member grabbed him lightly by the shoulder. “Let it go, Dwight.”

“I’m sorry,” he muttered. “It just really, REALLY annoys me when they make fun of MODOK like that…”

“I know Dwight. I know.”

Dwight appeared to recover his equilibrium. “Anyway, your opinion of our illustrious and not really just a giant head at all leader doesn’t matter! AIM is getting the U-ray!”

“Nuh-uh!” shouted a HYDRA member. “It’s going to HYDRA.”

“Sadly,” said a quiet voice, “you are all wrong.” The HYDRA and AIM agents turned. A group of ninjas emerged from the shadows. “The U-ray has been claimed by the Hand, whose reach is as—”

“Oh, screw you ninja boy,” muttered an AIM agent. “You guys can boast all you want—you’re still packing knives to a gun fight.”

“The way of the warrior is a far greater weapon than your pitiful technology,” said one ninja loftily. “Our skills allow us to—”

A HYDRA agent shot him in the arm. The ninja collapsed in agony. “You were saying?” asked the HYDRA agent.

“Oh—oh God! I’m bleeding! I’m bleeding!” screamed the ninja. “I—I think that one chipped a bone!”

“Face it!” chortled another HYDRA agent. “You guys and the funnelheads are going to get slaughtered.”

“Hey, don’t make fun of our costumes!” cried an AIM agent. “They may be bulky, and they don’t look too flashy, but they double our strength.”

“So,” muttered a Hand ninja, “you can lift two whole pounds now?”

This statement led to more unpleasantness, and so all those present were shouting when the helicopter landed.

“Squabbling, eh?” A man wearing a bisecting suit stepped out, followed by a bunch of lackeys, and a woman clad in flowing robes, and holding a bow. “Typical of rank amateurs.”

“Oh, hell,” muttered a HYDRA agent. “Zodiac…” The other criminals grumbled in agreement. Zodiac was one of the most universally resented gangs in the criminal underworld. On the one hand, they got their hands on more technology, and loot then most other crime syndicates even dreamed of. On the other hand, such things were soon wasted on Byzantine plots that didn’t even make much sense.

“Let’s see—Gemini—and Sagittarius,” noted an AIM member. “Is this the real you—or is a set of robotic duplicates?”

“Maybe yes,” said Gemini, “maybe no.” With that he and Sagittarius chuckled.

“Hand over the U-ray,” said Sagittarius in a dark whisper, “and when the Zodiac rules over all the—”

A large truck pulled in behind them, toppling over the helicopter.

“Son of a—” shouted Gemini, as he backed away.

“Looks like things aren’t going your way…” muttered Dwight the AIM agent.

“And we do have that little—numeric advantage thing,” pointed out a HYDRA agent.

“With our skills, it won’t help you,” stated Sagittarius confidently. “Besides it’s not like you losers could ever unite against us.”

“Don’t bet on it, lady,” muttered the wounded Hand ninja. Everyone present turned to look at the truck.

It was a large truck, with a rather tasteless picture of a beautiful woman cradling a bowling pin. A group of scowling men in purple and green bodysuits with a patch showing a bowling ball striking a pin on their foreheads emerged from it. Finally a man clad in what appeared to be mechanized body armor stepped out. “I am Hardstrike. My men and I make up the ideological organization known as Stick and Balls.”

“Yes,” shouted his men in unison. “That is our name. It is what we are called.”

“We will take the U-ray, and use it to restore bowling to its proper place in the world,” continued Hardstrike.

“Yes,” shouted his men. “That is what we will do. It is the action we will be taking.”

The general response to Stick and Balls arrival was close to the reaction that happens when a man in a clown costume arrives at a formal dress party.

“Stick and Balls,” muttered an AIM member. “Unfortunate name.”

“I know,” said a ninja. “I always thought we had it bad. The ‘Hand’ and all that…”

“So how are you—going to promote bowling…?” asked a HYDRA agent. “With the—U-ray.”

“Easy,” snorted Hardstrike confidently. “First, we will use the U-ray to destroy all opposing sports. Then, we will demand that bowling be made the national sport—of the world!” He raised his arms in triumph. “We will triumph by the strength of our magnificent sticks, and glorious balls!”

Most of the criminals winced at this—master plan.

With one exception.

“An intriguing plot,” said Gemini. “Do you plan to involve robots in it?”

“No,” said Hardstrike. “That would be silly.”

Back at the SHIELD van, Cross was panicking. “Damn it—how did so many get here?”

“There must be a leak,” said Exposition calmly.

“A leak?” cried Michael. “A leak would be one of them knowing about it. This is a freakin’ gouge!” He glanced outside. “Okay, they’re still debating salvage rights. Let’s run for it. We can make it to the rendezvous point, and alert SHIELD security.”

“I think you’re forgetting the first duty of every SHIELD agent,” said Exposition, patriotism dripping from his voice. “To die in the line of duty, so that Nick Fury looks more impressive.”

Cross stared at him, dumbfounded. “You know, Henry, I always knew you were crazy, but I never thought you were insane.” He got out of the van, and started to run. A shot rang out. Michael looked up weakly, to see Exposition holding a smoking pistol. “Y-you betrayed me…” he muttered, startled.

“Actually, by running you betrayed both me and SHIELD, you pinko rat bastard,” corrected Exposition.

This point apparently so mortified Cross, that he died.

Henry turned to the criminals. “Terribly sorry about that. He just wasn’t cut out for this kind of work. Now then, shall we get this over with?” He raised his pistol. “For SHIELD!” With that, Henry Exposition charged forward.

In five seconds, he took sixteen gun shots, five shuriken, and a bowling ball to the head.

“Good shot,” commented a ninja to Hardstrike.

“Thank you,” replied Hardstrike. “I pride myself on my aim. If I cannot perfect my skills, then I am not worthy of my magnificent Stick and Balls.”

 

***

 

Stick and Balls henchmen

Stick and Balls

03/11/2015 #TheDefenders Snippet, In The Mix, and a bit of tea.

Pastepot Pete!

Pastepot Pete

 

Hello all! How’ve you been since the last update?

 

After a lot of reviewing and reading I’ve finally been able to get this blog post up and live for consumption. Before I get into talking about the story two things: Today’s blog post is brought to you courtesy of two of the podcasts I follow: In the Mix with Shoom and Tea with Queen and J. If you guys could do me a favor and follow them/like them on their social media accounts then I’d really appreciate it. I definitely think everyone should take the time to support them as they are part of the #InsomniacFamily as far as I’m concerned.  I have also included links to the latest episodes of the two series along with today’s blog post, I hope you enjoy!

 

One of my favorite people in the universe, Sammus, is currently embarking on her very first tour with the incomparable Mega Ran! Tonight’s show is in Yellow Springs, Ohio! If you have the time and are in the area, please drop by and check them out tonight! Below is the full list of appearances and dates on the tour!

 

 

RSVP here on Mega Ran’s FB page

 

In the mix w/Shoom

In the mix w/Shoom

Like on Facebook!

https://www.facebook.com/inthemixwithshoom

Follow on Twitter!

http://www.twitter.com/Inthemixshoom

 

Tea with Queen + J

Tea with Queen and J

Like on facebook!

https://www.facebook.com/TeawithQueenandJ

follow on twitter!

https://twitter.com/TeawithQJ

 

Alright, after you guys follow these links and “Like” these pages I hope you enjoy today’s snippet! 🙂 Please don’t forget to drop me feedback after you’ve read!

 

 

****

 

Jameson, after foiling six attempted invasions of the Earth by demonic entities of various stripes, was really getting tired of his new job.

 

 

Maybe it was because the only pay he received was a sense of satisfaction of job well done, or at least done. Well, that and his continued existence. Which might be a plus, he admitted.

 

 

Maybe it was because the average demon was a grotesque mockery of all life. With absolutely no taste, and even less of a sense of humor. He’d had to raid several demonic dimensions, all of which featured flowing rivers of blood, strobe lighting, and “You Don’t Have to Be Damned to Work Here—But It Helps!” signs on the walls.

 

Jameson took a deep sip of his rather indifferent, lukewarm latte. A paper airplane that had been painstakingly folded from a napkin struck him on the back of the head.

 

 

Or perhaps, he appended, it was all the mockery his outfit was attracting as he paused to get refreshed at an all-night café.

 

 

Jameson turned abruptly. “All right you creep, I seem to recall that this is a free country, where a man can stop for a cup of coffee, and not have to worry about persecution based on the way he dresses.”

 

 

The entire clientele of the café glanced at him, and then glanced pointedly away.

 

 

“I’ll have you know I have a perfectly good reason for wearing this outfit!” Jameson began to wave his fist. “I am a SUPERHERO!”

 

 

The crowd continued to pointedly glance away.

 

 

Jameson sat back down. “Ingrates,” he muttered under his breath. Maybe he should just let the N’Gai toast a city district. That would show them…

 

 

The café’s waitress approached him. “Anything else?”

 

 

Jameson glanced at her. “Tell me, if I order another latte, would it actually be hot?”

 

 

The waitress shrugged. “Miracles have been known to happen.”

 

 

Jameson frowned. “That’s what I thought…” He handed her a few bills. “Keep the change…” The waitress nodded and headed out. Jameson sighed. He shouldn’t have flown off the handle like that. After all, it was just a paper airplane. He’d dealt with worse his entire life. At least right now, he was having a quiet moment, after an eventful stress-filled night.

 

 

“HAHAHAHAHAHAHA! Well, night owls, prepare for a stick-up of the most figurative kind! HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!”

 

 

Jameson’s head slumped down to the countertop. Well, at least his luck was holding out. All bad. Righting himself, he turned to look at this new threat.

 

 

Jameson blinked. Then he blinked again, to make sure he wasn’t hallucinating. Then he blinked a third time, in the desperate hope that he was. However, it appeared he wasn’t. The café really was about to be robbed by a man dressed largely in purple spandex—right up to the cowl on his rather vulpine face. The man’s gloves and boots were both a light red in color, and in his left hand, he held what looked for all the world like a military attempt at designing a squirt gun.

 

 

“Tremble, yes tremble fools at my awesome might! It will consume you! Quail before my power! HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!”

 

 

Jameson’s teeth ground together at the apparent supervillain’s high-pitched laughter. Maybe if I just sit here quietly, this will blow over, he thought. I mean, it’s not like I owe these people anything. I’ve already saved their sorry carcasses tonight, and I’m going to do it again. I can sit this one out. Might teach them a lesson. That was when he caught a desperate glance from the waitress. “Damn social conscience…” muttered Jameson, standing up.

 

 

“Attention, supervillain!” he stated in his best attempt at a loud commanding voice. “Before you stands Dr. Strange, self appointed nemesis to unpleasantness. Now cease your criminal activities and inordinate cackling or face my completely justifiable wrath.”

 

 

“Oh, really?” snorted the villain. “And tell me, Doctor are you ready to face the uncanny power of—PASTE-POT PETE?”

 

 

Jameson’s face went slack. “What?”

 

 

“I said, ‘are you ready to face the uncanny power of Paste-pot Pete’?” His opponent frowned. “What are you, deaf?”

 

 

Jameson buried his face in his hands. The universe, he felt, was an unjustifiably silly place, sometimes.

 

 

Paste-pot Pete (who was known to family and—well, acquaintances, as Jake Jennings) smiled to himself. His first act of supervillainy was already a roaring success. His superhero opponent had been reduced to quivering terror at the very mention of his name! Soon, very soon, Jerry Jenkins would be defeated!

 

 

All right—so technically, this was his second act of supervillainy. His first, an attempted bank robbery, had derailed fairly quickly. He’d handed a note saying “Prepare to get sticky” to a teller, and then had waited half an hour, at which point a pair of muscular security guards had shown up, and forcibly hauled him off, explaining as they did so that the bank didn’t want perverts intent on monkey business hanging around the premises.

 

 

Fortunately, no one had noted the beginning of his career in crime, and Jake had been able to take away two very important lessons.

 

 

Firstly, banks are far too heavily protected to be robbed with impunity. It would be wiser to go for a place that wasn’t expecting it.

 

 

Secondly, his impromptu costume of an artist’s smock and dark glasses just didn’t seem to grab people’s attention, at least, not in a way that screamed ‘supervillain’.

 

 

Jake gave a satisfied nod. Purple spandex had definitely been the way to go.

 

 

Jameson, after a couple of deep breaths, glanced up. “Okay,” he announced. “My burst of existential horror is over. I accept the terrifying fact that a man may want to dress in spandex and call himself Pasty Pete—”

 

 

“That’s Paste-Pot Pete!” cried Jake, menacingly waving his gun around.

 

 

“Right,” said Jameson in the calm cool tone that is generally used by men of extraordinary patience on children of remarkable intransigence. “As I was saying, it’s the sort of thinking that gives the world quite a few rock stars.” Jameson’s toe was starting to tap impatiently on the floor. “But what puzzles me is what superpowers a man called Post-Haste Pete—”

 

 

“I said, that’s Paste-Pot Pete!” screamed Jake.

 

 

“Dear me,” said Jameson. “Did I misspeak myself? Must be the lateness of the hour. To continue, what powers might he possess?”

 

 

“A worthy question,” cackled Jake. “My power comes from my brilliant invention, the paste pistol!” Jake glanced at his creation lovingly. Well, truthfully it was that bastard Jenkins’s invention, which Jake had… liberated from his lab, but still, his nemesis had been blind to its more advanced applications. In fact, he had built it for nothing more than to fix a few loose tiles on the school roof, showing as usual the inferiority of his so-called genius in comparison to the incomparable mind of Jake Jenkins. “With this I shall become one of the leading lights of the criminal world! HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!”

 

 

Jameson seemed to be staring at him rather strangely. “I’m happy for you. So—your—paste pistol…” Jameson bit his lip, in apparent frustration. “It shoots—paste, I’m guessing?”

 

 

Jake snickered. “That’s right! A very sticky paste! HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!”

 

 

Jameson nodded. “That’s what I thought.” He nodded some more. “Would you just—give me a second…?” Jameson turned around, glanced at the café’s patrons, and screamed. “All right people!” he shouted. “Would a reasonably fit man care to take a chair to the back of Pastel Pete’s head?”

 

 

“That’s Paste-Pot Pete!” cried Jake.

 

 

“Shut up!” said Jameson forcibly. He glanced back at the crowd. “Come on! He’s a scrawny young man who is trying to hold you up with a glue gun! Am I the only one here who realizes the inherent absurdity of this fact?”

 

 

The other patrons made it a point of order to avoid looking at Jameson.

 

 

“You all suck,” muttered Jameson. “I want you to realize that…”

 

 

“What to do you mean ‘inherent absurdity’? Are you insulting me, you cape-wearing lunatic?”

 

 

“Yes, I’m insulting you because you are probably one of the most intrinsically incompetent supervillains in existence,” seethed Jameson. “Have you ever considered the obvious limitations of your ‘power’? Suppose, for example, that you are robbing a bank. The manager knows the combination to the safe. He won’t open it. What do you do?”

 

 

“Simple,” snickered Jake. “I’d tell him to do it, or face a blast from my paste pistol.”

 

 

“And what would that do?”

 

 

“It would—make him very sticky…” stated Jake, a touch of uncertainty trailing into his voice.

 

 

“And why would that be threatening?” Jameson asked quietly.

 

 

“He—really doesn’t like being sticky…” Jake’s expression was now openly confused.

 

 

“It’s not threatening at all!” Jameson shouted. “If you’d have thought about it, you’d have known it! You’d have seen your only superpower is using a gun that’s less effective than a normal gun!”

 

 

“It—it makes people sticky!” Jake muttered defensively.

 

 

“A normal gun makes people dead,” replied Jameson. “Being dead is much worse than being sticky.”

 

 

“Oh—oh, shut up!” screamed Jake raising his paste pistol. “No one insults my reign of supervilliany…” He pulled the trigger.

 

 

A trickle of brownish fluid leaked out of the muzzle. “What—? ” Jake muttered in shock.

 

 

“Oh, yes,” said Jameson in a rather amused tone. “While we were chatting, I transformed your glue to molasses.”

 

 

Jake stared at him in dull surprise.

 

 

“Or maybe treacle.” Jameson began to tap his chin, in speculation. “Actually, those might be the same thing…”

 

 

“You’re working for him, aren’t you?” Jake stated hatefully. “You’re working for Jerry Jenkins!”

 

 

Jameson glanced at Jake, baffled. “Who?”

 

 

“Don’t play dumb with me!” screamed Jake. “This is just another one of that bastard’s attempts to bring me down! Well, Paste-Pot Pete is not as easy to defeat as Jake Jennings!” He triumphantly pulled out a greenish cylinder from his back pocket. “Behold! A second load of ammunition!”

 

 

Jameson sighed. “You really take too much relish in even the smallest triumphs, you know that?”

 

 

Jake changed his canisters quickly, then leveled the gun at Jameson. “Let’s see you get out of this one!”

 

 

Jameson stared at him forcibly.

 

 

Jake blinked. “Gettin’ sleepy…” he muttered. “Go night-night now…” With that he crashed to the floor and within minutes was laying there in a fetal position, snoring.

 

 

“Had to keep at it, didn’t you?” Jameson shook his head. He turned to the café patrons. “And thus was the scary Potboy Pete, wielder of the mighty glue gun, vanquished.” He walked out. “Don’t expect me to be so helpful next time…”

 

 

Shortly after he left the patrons glanced at each other. “Well, it seems that shrill, ugly fellow really was a superhero!”

 

 

“Yes. We’re all in his debt it seems.”

 

 

“What was his name again?” asked one.

 

 

“Ummmm… I think it was “Professor Weird, or something…” said another, uncertainly.

 

 

“No, daddy, I’m a good boy…” whimpered an unconscious Jake from the floor. “It was Natalie…” He began to suck his thumb nervously.

 

****

 

 

And here’s the podcast updates, as promised!

 

 

 

Update/A bit of everything

Hello my fellow insomniacs, how have you been?

Sorry I haven’t been around as much lately but due to a lot of things(Namely work and school) I’ve been a bit tied up recently. Now that I’ve got a bit of free time I can share a few things with you guys and let you know about some upcoming updates I have in the pipeline.

First of all, I’m almost finished with the first story arc in Defending now. For those who don’t know, Defending is my story that stars unlikely superhero Jameson Smith and his transformation into Dr. Strange. I’ve honestly thought of pretty much giving up on it with Benedict Cumberbatch and Marvel bringing it to the big screen but..I may not now and just keep it to help me out of writer’s block on occasion.

I also plan to start attempting to do Alabama basketball recaps and TV show recap/discussion posts. If you guys have anything in mind PLEASE let me know so we can get this thing rolling here in the future. Not sure if I’ll be doing Walking Dead, but I’m definitely interested in Better Call Saul, Arrow, The Flash, and Game of Thrones when it returns in April.

The next thing I want to discuss is my gal Sammus! She’s got a tour coming up soon with the homie Mega Ran and she needs your help to procure funds for her upcoming tour. There are several ways you can help her and I’ve included the an excerpt from her post below:

“***”

Merch!

Sammus Merch on sale!

I’ll be including a brand new sticker featuring Kendra Wells’ dope artwork FREE with every purchase (see my profile picture). I’ve also lowered the cost of posters to $10. To check out the shop:https://sammusmusic.bandcamp.com/merch

Some other ways you can help:
– RSVP for a show in your area (and make sure to purchase a ticket for the NYC show): http://sammusmusic.com/

– Donate via Paypal (to go towards things like the cost of gas, food, and re-upping on merch): http://bit.ly/donatetosammus

– Email the homie Mega Ran at contactATmegaranDOTcom if you’re interested in providing a $ sponsorship

– Spread the word about the tour!

THANKS SO MUCH! March will truly be life-changing! I can’t wait to make any/all supporters proud on the road and at SXSW.

****

In the Mix has been going really strong lately as well and have made it all the way to episode 25! I’ve included the 2 most recent episodes below! If you want more info follow Shoom and Reg on Twitter and like the page here on facebook!

 

***

The final piece of information I’d like to share is from my good friend Chanice. I could put it into words, but I think I’ll let you watch the video below and see for yourself.

You can support her endeavors at Change of Plans

Quick update and post

Hey everyone! Sorry I haven’t been around for a bt. Your pal Palazzo has been a bit swamped with real life of late and had his schedule really consumed. I’m pretty much behind when it comes to everything and the next few days I’m going to do be all I can to catch up o bear with me.

Before I get to my post, I just want to throw in a plug for another of my good friends. Tiffany Christina Lewis is a very talented author that I’ve had the pleasure of knowing for quite some time, if you all could do me a favor and check out her work I certainly would appreciate it!

inside out Cover

I mean sure, I played a hand in her first major book release “Inside Out” as an editor. But there’s more to here than that, she has a great heart and intense focus that won’t allow her to do anything but succeed. I hope you guys check her out!

Alright, here’s an excerpt from a story I’ve been working on of late. Hope you all enjoy, please don’t forget to leave a comment, oh! And check out the plug I have at the end of the post as well! ENJOY!

**********

Jameson, smiling slightly, held up the shirt he’d just spent the last hour sewing a yin-yang symbol onto. He’d done a rather good job, actually—the yin-yang was positioned perfectly in the shirt’s center, divided into two, each half fitting together perfectly to form the whole. He’d even positioned it, so the buttons were incorporated into the design as the balancing energies. And to finish it off, he’d marked it off from the rest from the rest of the shirt by a thin line of silver thread.

Well, thought Jameson, that’s four hours killed. Now I’ve got to worry about the slow destruction of the world’s protective barriers before an insidious onslaught of demonic invaders… He sighed. I think I’ll worry about my costume for a little while longer…

He put on the shirt, then snapped on the final touch—a harmless bit of vanity that he was already slightly ashamed of—a pair of circling serpent cufflinks he’d found in India and bought on impulse. He glanced into the mirror.

Jameson chuckled slightly. He actually looked—well, somewhat impressive. Now all he needed to add was…

He winced. The Cloak.

The idea had occurred to him on the trip back. Reading the newspapers, he’d noted that in the month or so he’d been gone, a great change had come over the world—it was beset by superheroes. It seemed nearly half the articles dealt with the doing of brave men and women who wore spandex without the least sense of shame or even regret. It had seemed obvious to him that posing as a superhero would be the best way to about his business in Tokyo.

Otherwise he was afraid he might be mistaken for a pimp wearing that damn Cloak of Levitation, something his sallow complexion and limited physique would only act to confirm. Jameson was not going to be booked on an ethics charge.

Not again.

No he was sure he’d seem fairly sedate by superhero standards. Well, reasonably sure. He thought anyway. He slipped on the Cloak.

Jameson sighed. Well, he had accomplished his goal. He no longer looked like a pimp.

He looked like a pimp who had recently converted to Taoism.

Jameson turned to his dresser. Fortunately he was prepared for this eventuality. He snapped on a domino mask, then glanced back at the mirror.

Now he looked like a Taoist pimp who was attending a costume ball.

Well, there was a last chance of avoiding recognition. He slipped the pantyhose over his head.

Now he looked like a Taoist pimp who was going to commit a mugging, on his way to a costume ball.

Jameson took both of his makeshift disguises off. It appeared that this was his—best option. He sighed. Well, if any of his classmates saw him, he’d just pretend not to know them. After all, what chance was there of them automatically recognizing a ghastly pale young man wearing a distinctive outfit?

Jameson groaned. Life really wasn’t fair, when you got down to it…

He took a deep breath, and turned to the Orb of Agomotto. He’d managed to set it up on his desk as a paperweight, telling his parents he’d gotten it as a memento in India. Now, the Ancient One had told him that it would help him locate threats to this world…but hadn’t actually mentioned how to use it.

Jameson stared at it, for a moment. Maybe—maybe if he thumped it a little… but no, it looked rather delicate. He placed his hand on top of it.

A brilliant light began to shine from the center of the Eye. Strange images flooded Jameson’s mind, which then began to crystallize with startling clarity.

Jameson stood there for a moment, silent. Finally, he uttered two words, quietly.

“Oh, crap…”

****

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#AnotherM

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msherringsays

The life of a middle school language arts teacher. Not to be taken to seriously. Kapeesh?

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KunoichiJen

When You Give a Ninja a Blog...