Preview of Hades

Limbus wasn't able to move his head, but strained his eyes toward the ground to see his pants were removed while his feet were resting in a tub of water. Lifting his eyes up slowly, he realized this was the demon from the funeral, the one who controlled water. That was the only logical explanation for this. The other thing Limbus immediately concluded was any screech on his part would cause the demon to let go of the ropes thereby placing three more deaths on Limbus’ conscience. These two things meant the demon wanted something from Limbus, not his death. At least, not yet. So, at this point, the most Limbus could do was stall until an idea came to him or Hades found him. “If I may, could you be Gaap?”

“Now that is impressive,” Gaap nodded. “So what does that tell you, boy?”

“That you likely have the same powers as Hades, yet over water,” Limbus guessed.

“Indeed I do,” Gaap admitted. “I can travel through it, control it, create illusions from it, and even inflict pain through it.”

On the last, a spike of white hot fire shot up through Limbus’ legs instantly causing him to tense against his bounds which tore into his skin. A second later the pain vanished, leaving him gasping as his eyes found focus once again. Coughing air into his lungs to refill them, Limbus looked back to the floor and found it slick with wetness. In fact, on further observation, the entire place was dank. Gathering his thoughts, he lifted his eyes up. “But every gift HE gave has a weakness. Every power has a limit. So what’s yours?”

“Again, the clever human tries to gain knowledge to glean a strategy,” Gaap nodded. “But enough of your questions and time for some of my own.”

“I won’t answer you,” Limbus stated bluntly.

“Really…oops,” Gaap said wickedly with a tilt of his head as a single rope slipped from his grasp.

“Stop,” Limbus yelled as Tom Rice started to fall, the rope streaming across the floor like a rabid snake, though Gaap didn't move a muscle. Instead, the demon watched Limbus intently as Limbus watched, petrified at what he was witnessing. As if in slow motion, he saw Tom Rice’s head splattered across the floor in a deafening smack before the agent’s body crumpled on top of it.

Revulsion, hatred, endless hurt all overcame Limbus a moment later as he realized his friend’s death. He wanted to break through his constraints and strangle the demon, to break the demon smug look, to conquer the demon’s will, but none were possible. Even a screech wasn't possible unless he wanted to be responsible for two more deaths. And those were two more deaths he was unwilling to pay for.

Gritting back his tempered emotions, he asked between clinched teeth, “What do you want?”

Dedications

So over the past few years I've written a few dedications and posted them in the front of my books. Some I've liked, some I haven't, but in reality there are just too many people to list, too many people who have encouraged me in one way or another that to list any means I'm possibly leaving out someone who is just as important. I mean, realistically, nearly everyone in my life presently has been an inspiration.

In retrospect, I've also read a few dedications in other books which are either amazingly poetic or astoundingly simple. There's rambling and there's succinctness, but done well. Unfortunately, I'm not poetic. Nor can I spew words which invoke the kind of emotion I truly feel, emotions these people I want to thank will understand and appreciate. This leaves me in quite the quandary.

So,while having a few moments to think, I wrote a more deserving dedication which I will place at the front of A ROMANCE NOVEL, my newest book which should hit the market soon enough. (Too soon to my liking) Anyway, here is it:

Dedication: Thirty years of vividly imagining worlds, of toiling at a keyboard, and of learning that criticism only makes my writing better has pushed me toward accomplishing a lifetime goal. It’s a goal I could not have accomplished on my own, though at times it seemed that way. Yet, for every twisted phrase or tweaked paragraph, for every painful rewrite or gleeful summation, and for every frustrated moment leading toward exhaustive exultation, I have had someone urging me to become more than I was before. In the beginning, I only had thoughts of what could be; the beginnings of an idea. Now, I have fully written and published stories I never would've conceived myself writing. However, this is not a testament to myself or my perseverance, but rather to those behind me pushing me forward, telling me they have read my words and want to read more, who have encouraged me to continue on instead of finding a shelf on which to park my expressive nature. This dedication is for them; for those who never lost hope even when I discouraged. To you I say; thank you. I could not have done this without every single one of you and, now more than ever, I need you to lift my chin and tell me to forge on; that this is worth it. And it’s for you that I will.

Writing Mistakes

As a habit, when I start writing from where I left off, I usually read the last few chapters so I can regain the story within my thoughts. Most of the time when I do this I find a few mistakes in my writing and make corrections. The thing is that I only read a few paragraphs, but I find mistakes in just those few words. I correct them, but it makes me think of how many other errors are within the pages I haven't yet reviewed. Because of this, editing becomes all the more important in the later stages. And like I always say, getting words onto paper should be the first priority, everything else comes later. Knowing this, living this, means I need to analyze my most common mistakes and search for them when the time for editing comes. So here are the things I get wrong, search for, and inevitably change:

Towards – Toward

Backwards – Backward

Afterwards – Afterward

Forwards – Forward

He said jokingly – he joked.

Than and then – Work on not confusing them.

To, too, and two – Don’t confuse

Don’t overuse the word “that” – eliminate as many as you can….

Contractions:

Is not – isn’t

Are not – aren’t

They are – they’re

He is/he has – he’s

She is/she has - she’s

There is – there’s

I am – I’m

I have – I’ve

They have – They’ve

And …..

Point of view is the voice of the person telling the story. In a novel length work, it is preferable to have one point of view per chapter, if not, one per scene is acceptable.

No Table of Contents

No underline - Bold chapter titles, but no underline.

No ‘’ – use italics, same with titles of movie or reference to other items.

Prologue and Epilogue, Overview is for the back cover…

Delete content that is irrelevant or doesn’t drive the story forward.

Delete points of view unless absolutely necessary.

Don’t interrupt flow by adding ‘he said’ in the middle of a point or conversation.

Thesaurus – Use it more…

Then and Now

Now for a little story which began 30 years ago which is when I started writing my first book. Back then, writing was not my passion, I just thought I had a story to tell and a reason to tell it. For 20 years I toiled with that story off and on as my expectations changed along with my life. During that time, however, the one simple book became the beginning of a series I believed I could stretch into three novels. As far as that goes, I'd finished the first two and was about half way through the third with no end in sight. Yes, this means it took me 20 years to write 2 1/2 books. Shameful, but back then writing was still not a passion. Nor was publishing, though it was on my bucket list.

Then a strange thing happened, I went to my 20th High School Reunion and bump into a similar heart. For the entire night we talked of writing. From that point on I had gained a passion for writing. Before I knew it I'd finished the 3rd, 4th, 5th, 6th and 7th book of the series. It was complete, it was epic, and I was proud. Best of all, I was inspired and I owe it all to her because she lit the fire under my ass and gave my purpose.

Its been just over 8 years since that reunion and in that time I've written 14+ books (17 total) and am currently writing two at this time. But beyond that, I have published 6 books and have a seventh coming out shortly. These books, however, aren't even the ones she tortured me to complete; my original series which I reformatted into 9 books. She also introduced me to her son, Tyler, who is currently doing/redoing the graphics for my Stone Vengeance series covers, my Burden of Immortality book, and banners for my display booth at comicon events. He has been a godsend since I have very little artistic talent.

But in addition to just my writing and publishing, she also gave me purpose. Back then I survived from day to day without those awe-inspiring moments which makes life meaningful. Now I have goals. Now I have aspirations. Now I have a life with meaning. For that, I want to thank you, Kathleen (Stoner) Melhart. You are a compatriot of passion and one day we shall publish something together which will stall the world. Without her I'd be trudging through life still in search of direction.

I can't thank you enough for being the constant push I need.

My Worth

Another piece of new writing. Yea, part of a theme lately: What have we become? What destination have you taken me? Is it a trip I still want to endure? These are the questions I ask myself as you turn away. Before that, however, I saw your head nod in agreement though your body language held contempt. I felt the sweetness of your smile as you shrugged me away in dismissal. I heard the encouragement in your voice yet you didn't listen to a spoken word from my mouth. I smelt the rapture of your screams fade away quickly as another entered your thoughts. If only you could have understood my plea from love from the words I wrote, but you were on a different chapter in another book, so my voice fell on deaf ears. Therefore, I cannot cling to hope anymore nor can I understand my worth within your eyes. Where I once saw passion, I now see nothingness. I used to see so many things within your grace, but what I never saw were the tears you shed when I was gone. So what does it mean when love only exist when I stand in front of you? It means nothing right now except a silent heartache, a painful tears, and a memory which will never fade. And in the darkness I evaluate my worth and find I was only a single day away from being forgotten. It's hardly worth the effort to write this, but it's my only way of accounting for my thoughts, your actions. -- A day. One solitary day. And I'm gone. Such a disgrace.

On a lighter note, I got the newest cover for Azazel: Book 3 of my Stone Vengeance series. Looks awesome. Love it!!!