This is Monday

First, we're deviating a bit from my appointed scheme to do something a little different this week. I'm slowly ramping up the pace at which I'm working on the second novel in the Endless Wars series, as I'm starting to really get a better feel for how rough and raw this book is going to be, and I'm getting a creative boner for it. Like massively. Hawt,

Anyway, I'm actually going to post the first three major sections of the original on here this week, so that you all can be bribed with a free taste into buying a book. I tried to write the story I'd always wanted to read, and I'd like to share it with as many people as possible, and try to see if I can do this for a living some day.


Untitled Podcast
Before we get to that, though, there is the matter of the podcast. Tony and I sat down together and yammered incessantly about games we don't own for nearly three hours. And some people like that. Fascinating.

We do appreciate that, so here is the podcast page. Please enjoy, and we'll be returning to the mics in a little less than three months.


Regular Programming
I'll be getting back to the regular posts in a week or two. I'm going to focus on Endless Wars for a week or two, not only to try and properly convey what it is to those who haven't grabbed it already, but to get myself in the right mindset while I work on the next book in the series.

Also, for anyone who's read it, lemme know if ya have any questions about it. I'd love to talk with existing readers and see what they thought, as well as answer any questions they might have.


Big Thanks
Just wanted to give a public 'thanks' to both Laurance and Cody, who are both great artists, allies, and friends. Cody did a lot of the art for the Untitled Podcast in the past. He also writes rather well about games, and has one of the last good gaming blogs out there.

Laurance, and his company, Physical City, did a gorgeous fucking banner for my book, and all the free prostitutes in the world wouldn't be a big enough 'thank you' to him. Whether it's a banner, a graphic for a page, a book cover, a billboard, a buttocks tattoo, a comic book, whatever, make goddam sure you chat w/ the dudes over at Physical City for any and all art needs. No shit. Do it. Now.


The Endless Wars: The Descent (section 1)
Here we go, and please note the nice-ass banner made up by the above-mentioned Physical City.



begin section one of the Endless Wars: the Descent

I: Curtain
November, 2001

Dark, ominous clouds. Lightning. A flood of
rain pouring down. Decaying, long dead buildings.
Streets that look like they haven’t been repaved since
the rule of Louis XVI. A cop substation in the
distance. More rain.

That was the landscape that was sucked into
Taran’s eyes. His view shifted around, as if he was
desperately trying to find something not dying, not
gray, at which to stare. He could feel the
lifelessness infecting him.

Taran Walker was twenty three years young, and
possessed the body of a man. His height and build were
just about average (roughly 5’8, with a fair amount of
muscle.) His dark brown hair and brown eyes added to
his almost average appearance. His face was adorned
with a beard that circled his mouth, and his eyes
contained a coldness that looked very heavy.

His room was covered in dirty laundry, various
magazines and books, boxes of CDs and other belongings,
empty beer bottles and cigarette packs everywhere. A
bare mattress was in the corner, with an ashtray and a
digital alarm clock next to it. The walls had probably
once been white, but those days were long since gone.

Of course he loved her. Of course he did. Not
“in love,” mind you. But he did love her. How could
he not? An inch shorter than him, red hair, green
eyes, tiny waist, perfect curvy body, and that weird
Jedi Mind control over guys. She was one of those
girls that was great at convincing you that you needed
her above all else, and by the time you realized that
you didn’t, you had already wrecked your life so badly
that your best strategy was to cower in her shadow
until you thought of some really clever escape plan.

Rosaline was really something.

But, Taran had learned. About four months prior,
she had cheated on him and dumped him for a military
school cadet three years his junior. After four years
of something that almost reminded him of perfection.

So, there she stood. Fighting and pleading to be
taken back.

“I’m done with you.” Taran said, surprisingly
calmly, though he let out several ragged breaths after-
wards

“I can’t fucking believe you. It’s really
interesting, really, really interesting, Taran, how
this ‘honor’ that you always talk about comes and goes
whenever it’s convenient for you! Isn’t ‘forgiveness’
included in your little ‘code of conduct?’” she paused,
inhaled a sniffle, “Taran, listen to me. Please. I’m
standing here telling you that I love you.”

Taran’s mind raced, trying to decipher her tactic.
He had known her for a long time, and knew
that every single word that left her beautiful, pale
lips was part of a larger strategy. She never did or
said anything unless she was going to gain something
from it. He had been brilliantly manipulated by her
over the last year, and was done with it. Just done
with it.

First, it had been the gaps in her schedule.

Hours of time that were missing in her life that she
would claim had been used for napping, which she never
did, or extra homework, which was also unusual. She
always plowed through her homework in a very short
time, a testament to her intelligence. Sometimes, she
would even manufacture reasons to explode at him, so as
to avoid him for the hours it took to be with her
lover.

Then, Taran had caught them.

Rosaline arched her back and touched her breasts
in a way she NEVER did with Taran...she bounced up and
down on him [GRINGO] in a way she never had with
Taran...her gasps and [FAKED] orgasms sounded much more
violent, more felt, more appreciated than they ever had
with Taran...Taran moved away from the doorway...wished
he had been noticed by them...

She had claimed that not only was Taran losing
“it,” but so was their relationship. She had said that
things hadn’t been the same since...

She saw Taran lying bloody on his couch, shards
of glass embedded in his face...white powder caked
under his nose...she knew he was supposed to be dead...

He figured that she, being only 19, had gotten
bored and curious. He had been warned that she had
been too young when they started dating, and here he
stood, the biggest goddam fool in the world.

He continued to stare out the window and absorb
the rather depressing landscape. He took another drag
off his cigarette, exhaled, and turned to face her. He
hated this moment. The moment after you’ve been facing
away from a lover or an ex you’ve been fighting with
and then, suddenly you turn, look at them, and remember
why you were facing away. They’re the most beautiful
individual in the world.

He very calmly approached her. He caressed her
cheek with his hand and smiled at her.

“I will always love you, I’m sure. I just don’t
ever want to see you again,” he whispered, his smile
trembling, “and please, just let me go. Please. I
can’t-“

“Taran, I left you for Johnny Gringo. Another
guy. You are not the first person this has happened
to. You’re acting like this is some horrible new
problem in the world. It happens all the fucking
time.”

He pulled away from her, his unstable smile
dissolving into a sigh. His eyes rolled as he threw
his hands up in the air.

“Ya know, Roz, there was a time when I thought
you might actually be capable of feeling guilty for
something, or actually really, truly loving someone. I
suspected you were incapable of having a shred of
humanity a year ago, and now, I’m sure of it.”

Rosaline looked away from him, her green eyes
flicking all over the place. She bit her lip and
nodded her head.

“Taran,” she began, her voice quieter and
sweeter, “Can we just...start over, or something.
Please? I-“

“NO! NO! NO! NO! NO!” Taran exploded,
slapping a beer bottle off of his window sill and into
a wall. Rosaline jumped away from the glass shards
that sprayed out.

“Calm down!” she yelled, pointing a long,
perfectly sculpted finger at him. The red nail shined
from the light of the street lamp outside.

“Then stop! It’s like you can’t decide if you
want me back so that you can torture me some more or
because you actually do love me. Just leave! Go!”

“Taran, stop it. Look, let’s calm down and just
talk, okay? No more yelling, okay? Let’s just relax
and talk this out.” Rosaline offered, almost speaking
in a whisper.

“No.” Taran grunted through gritted teeth. He
turned and stared at the dying night through his window
again.

Rosaline’s voice cracked as she spoke.

“Don’t you understand? I made a mistake. If I
wounded you, I-“

Taran whirled to face her, smashing his cigarette
into the ashtray as he turned.

“Some wounds heal and some wounds scar. Do you
know what it means to be wounded? Do you know what
it’s like when that wound comes from someone you love?
When that wound is accidentally inflicted, that is
easily forgivable. When that wound is intentional, it
is not. When it is intentional and repeatedly fucking
inflicted, it goes into a realm beyond hatred and
sadness. I believe the term ‘inhuman’ was fashioned
for just this kind of act. You have never loved me and
are incapable of doing so. Leave now.”

He turned back to the window. Tears dripped off
of his rough cheeks and into the ashtray, extinguishing
the burning remains of the cigarette.
Rosaline stared at him for a few moments, then
finally spoke in a choked voice.

“What happened to you? You used to be...”
Still staring out the window, never turning to
look at her, Taran responded.

“Never mind what I used to be. It’s no concern
of yours any longer. You will never have to worry
about it again. I’ve relieved you of that. Good bye.”

All Rosaline could do was stare. Or, at least
attempt to. The tears were flowing so heavily she had
to repeatedly blink. He was gone for good this time.
Forever. And, yet, there he was. Standing maybe a
foot away. He was right in front of her! She could
reach out to touch him. One last time. Her last
memory of him could be the feeling of their skin
touching.

However, she was convinced this would not be
their last shared memory.

She bent down, picked up her purse, walked out of
the room, and began to head down the stairs.

For whatever reason, he didn’t feel that great
sense of victory he had expected.

Taran stared out of his window, his hands clasped
behind his back, and watched her exit the building and
run to her car. Rosaline was gone.

The dying city lay before him, waiting.

end of the first section of the Endless Wars: the Descent

So, that's the first part of the book. I'll post more of it tomorrow, and the following day, and then we'll see what we do with the rest of the week. I'll also answer some of last week's 'Writing Wednesday' questions.

Now, when it comes to buying the actual book, there are two options:

Buy a real book for $15.42!

Buy an ebook for $1.25!

The choice is yours, and I make the same $1 off of it either way, so please just buy the version that makes it easier for you to read it!

The long-term goal is make enough to buy my own ISBN, so any help you can contribute is very, very appreciated.

See ya tomorrow.

-Blaine