12/28/11

“The Devil’s Tide” is underway…

Flies circled the churned mess of Henry’s ravaged kneecap, buzzing incessantly in a near perfect sphere. He swatted fiercely at them, his remaining eye gleaming with defiance. A sickly-sweet aroma wafted from the horrible wound.

He doesn’t know he’s dying, Nathan realized with a sardonic smirk.

-First lines of “The Devil’s Tide”

12/13/11

Prologue to “ARCTURUS,” my upcoming sci-fi novel

He awoke screaming and naked in a darkened corridor. Thick rivulets of blood trickled from his arms and legs, pooling about his knees and trailing gradually through the jagged maze of broken glass that littered the grated floor. He frantically plucked the shards from his limbs, his pathetic, shrill screams echoing down the corridor.

Sleek cylindrical pods lined the walls for as far as the eye could see, stretching vertically from ceiling to floor, fading into distant darkness. Each was carved with an oval window revealing the dimly illuminated body of a man or woman within. They were all bald, and their bodies were completely hairless. They were young and flawless in both looks and physique. Their eyes were open, mouths slightly parted, but they appeared unburdened by consciousness. Continue reading

12/12/11

Excerpt from “The Devil’s Fire”: The Spanish Galleon

Nathan didn’t know how he had survived the battle thus far, but he suspected that luck was largely a factor.

As he scaled the side of the galleon, he glanced up and saw One-Eyed Henry and Gregory climbing over the top of the bulwark. Gregory halted in place and glanced down at Nathan, his face ghostly pale. Whatever he had glimpsed on the other side of that bulwark mortified him.

Nathan looked down, risking dizziness, and saw Griffith and Livingston making their way up the hull below him. The sight of his captain so eager to engage in battle filled his heart with a powerful urge to press on. He summoned all of his energy and hauled himself upward, and he did not stop climbing until he reached a gunport. Continue reading

08/8/11

“The Devil’s Fire” First Chapter

Katherine Lindsay pressed her legs against the bulwark and peered into the cold blue waters of the North Atlantic, hoping to locate her often heralded beauty within the rippling reflection that gazed back.

An emaciated figure, ghostly pale skin, and insipidly plain features were a tax on her self-esteem. Bodices did not accentuate her breasts as nicely as most of the women she knew. She credited flattering remarks to the striking mane of red hair that curled naturally about her head and spilled down to her waist, forging an illusion of beauty by cloaking the abnormalities. Her hair was a wicked burden of tangles that she fastened as best she could, but the wild tresses were as much a curse as they were a fiery splendor. Continue reading