Golden Age Heroes (IDCU 4) in on Pre-Order
June 10, 2021
The Season Finale is here!
It's taken nearly two years to complete this book. Or at least it feels like it... 2020 feels like a blur.
But, at long last, the Season Finale is here! Golden Age Heroes
comes full-circle back to the mysteries of Book 1 and sends us on secret missions during World War Two! It also includes the new, exclusive Spitball and Sapphire story, "Speeding Dating."
To read the book's prologue, keeping it here:
September, 1939. Poland.
With the steady hand of a surgeon, Eliska Sadoski reassembled the tiny metal gears within the silver saucer of the pocket watch. They had to fit together perfectly, miniscule teeth matching teeth, layered atop one another in an intimate dance of unity. Her green eyes, young as they were, hardly felt sufficient for assessing the task. The tweezers, pinched between thumb and forefinger, were almost too cumbersome for the job. Yet she had a natural knack for the work that made up for all inadequacies.
She finished the delicate work, replaced the circular watch face and hands, then the final glass cap. Resurrected back to mechanical life, the hands ticked with precision.
Eliska smiled at her own work and at the small circular photograph of her deceased mother at rest in the hinged cap of the pocket watch. The photo was, of course, cast in shades of grey. She had no memories of her mother in the fleshtones of life. She’d died of fever when Eliska was not yet two years old. Now she was just days away from her fourteenth birthday.
Her father’s shadow appeared over her.
“Eliska,” her father gasped, his voice colored with (possibly exaggerated) admiration. “You fixed it. That’s amazing!”
“Papa, please,” she replied modestly. “It is not that amazing.”
“Well, it is to me.”
Eliska had always shown a natural aptitude for all things mechanical. Her father, on the other hand, had a very green thumb. Two of them, her mother had always joked with him. Although Eliska assisted her father in the flower shop and knew that someday it would fall on her to take over the family business, she held a secret dread for that destiny. Her thumbs were narrow and deft, but not green.
That inheritance also assumed his death, which she hoped would never come.
Mikolaj Sadoski was a stocky man with a sun-worn face, heavy moustache, and a bit of a belly. He wore an apron that was even more genuinely green than his thumbs. It went on every morning when he dressed and didn’t come off until he readied himself for bed each night.
A bed that he would never see again…
Mikolaj closed Eliska’s hand within his own, simultaneously snapping shut the silvery clam shell in her palm. “A miracle worker,” he told her, squeezed her in his other arm and kissed the top of her head.
Suddenly, woeful cries sounded from outside.
A few people ran by the flower shop’s large front window. Words were shouted down the street, muffled by a clutching panic in the throat that had forced them out. A man and woman across the way were like frightened rabbits caught between a dog and the fence, starting this way, then that, but getting nowhere.
A bearded man stepped into view just outside the door, placed his fedora over his heart, and stared to the east.
“It’s coming,” her father gasped, pressing her further into his embrace. “They’re here. I never really believed...”
Eliska slipped the watch into a pocket of her dress and they both went out to the sidewalk.
Her father’s rough hand encompassed hers.
The narrow brick street was choked by a column of soldiers and vehicles. The men were mostly young—not much older than Eliska herself—with short hair and shaven faces, all dressed in the khaki and brown uniforms of the Soviet Red Army. Russian officers and their attendants rode in roofless autos. A few came on horseback or in armored jeeps. There were large trucks and several tanks: armored behemoths like blocks of steel, moving squeakily forward on rotating tracks and bearing a huge cannon on their turrets.
Eliska was fascinated by the tanks, such powerful machines. She thought of the interlacing gears of the pocket watch and wondered what made the steel monsters work.
Father and daughter watched as the column continued into their town, filling the narrow cobblestone street. The marching, rolling army curved south, filling the village roads and alleys, and came to a stop.
Her father’s grip on her hand had tightened to an almost painful level of pressure.
A man approached them. His uniform boasted more decorations than the others, as well as scarlet shoulder boards and a red-ribboned cap. He eyed Eliska with a smirk on his hawkish face.
The officer addressed her father. Fear and confusion clouded Eliska’s mind; she did not register what the man was saying, only his tone of unquestioned authority. He spoke as if he had been here all along, empowered by the people of this town, not as a stranger just arrived.
He summoned more men to his side.
Now her ears worked again, unhindered by the confusion of how her world was rapidly falling apart. The officer wanted to come into the shop for tea and lunch. And he expected Eliska to serve it to him.
Her father could cook or leave, the choice was his, but the girl—the slender, blonde-haired girl not quite fourteen—she was to be his personal attendant for the day. She would serve them lunch. And sit on his lap while he ate it.
A cry of rage and despair gurgled from her father’s throat. She felt the crushing force of his hand on hers and then the absence of it when he let go. Her father was not a big man, never violent, but he was strong that day. He struck down the officer. A single blow to the face that caught the man by surprise and knocked him on his rear there on the sidewalk. In front of his men. In front of the townsfolk he meant to conquer.
She heard the gunshot and everything else went silent. The terrible crack was the only sound she’d kept in that several minutes of distorted memory. Even her own scream hadn’t registered in her ears or been retained in her mind.
Two men—boys, mere boys in uniform, barely older than herself—grabbed at her. She fought back, eluded them. Others gave chase.
She ran into the street, between hulks of steel. Soldiers were everywhere. They outnumbered every man, woman, and child in town. There was nowhere for her to run. She became trapped between them, among them. Some of the youthful soldiers’ faces were scared too, some serious. Others smirked at her, a frightened deer on the run from a pack of playful wolves, the way the officer had smirked at her.
Eliska backed away from those sneering, violent faces and came up against a steel-skinned monster. She pressed her body and hands against its cool, metal surface.
It was a Soviet tank.
And somehow, much like the watch, Eliska understood it.
With soldiers on either side, frothy from the chase, laughing and leering, she felt the tank move. The turret rotated and lowered, peering like a vengeful telescope at those that threatened her.
Men backed away then. Someone shouted at the crew inside, demanded to know what they were doing. Confusion called back.
There was a large truck following behind the tank, parked several yards in front of Eliska now. The driver had a chubby face and wide, white eyes. He dove out of the cab but his passenger did not. Nor did the dozen or so men riding in the back. They must not have understood what was about to happen. No one did. No one could.
The howitzer fired.
Eliska felt the concussive shockwave more than she heard it. Yet it deafened her.
The truck exploded. Shards of glass, steel, and stone struck Eliska’s face, arms, and body. Smoke and fire filled the narrow street. Men lay on the ground. Others fled.
By the time the smoke and chaos had cleared, Eliska Sadoski was gone.
I think I hear something but when I glance up at the door… Nothing is there. The noise of the tavern rises and falls beyond. It must have just been— No, wait. I was right. A shadowy figure lingers at the threshold. A silhouette of a man, medium height, perhaps on the thin side. Hard to tell beneath the heavy black cloak and rather beaten-up top hat. He glides into the room, apparently satisfied there’s no threat within. He removes his top hat and bashes it against the wall, collapsing it into an uneven disc. The folded hat slips beneath his cloak to be stashed away. The same gesture reveals a dagger on his belt. I have the distinct impression he’s showing me the weapon for a reason—to ensure there’s no funny business, I guess. “Good evening,” he says, sliding into the seat at my table. He’s a handsome man with dark, piercing eyes, olive skin, and curly sable hair. “I hear you may be in need of… certain services.” “Not true,” I tell him. His suave demeanor becomes suddenly serious. “No?” His hand slips beneath the cloak, perhaps to the dagger’s hilt. “No services,” I say. “Just a few questions.” His dark eyes flick about, surveying the room. I expected this level of suspicion with him. My hand reaches halfway across the table then withdraws, leaving a 50 scept gold coin for him. His reflexes are remarkable; the coin is snatched in the blink of an eye. “I’m listening,” he says. * Me: Solomon Dustwalker? Solomon: Yes. You no doubt recognize me by my iconic top hat. Wearing it is similar to lighting a lantern outside the shop door, if I had a shop. It means I’m open for business and I am indeed the person you’re looking for. Not too many people around here sporting a stovepipe hat. So, tell me the nature of work you need completed. Me: Uh, again, sir, I don’t need any work completed. Outside of answering a few questions. And I have paid you quite handsomely for your honesty. Solomon: Honesty? Honesty is a fluid thing, sir. As well as rare, precious, and expensive… Me: Well, for now, I’ll take the amount of honesty that a gold coin buys and we can go from there. Now, my first question: What brings you to the city of Overlook? Solomon: Business, of course. I’ve brought my exotic talents all the way from the ancient and infamously brutal city of Five Kings. I first came to the Consortium by way of Westgate. That city is a nice blending of west and east. But after a lifetime in the arid lands of the Thirsted Plains, I thought a rise in elevation—and sophistication—was due. Therefore, here I am. Me: And these services you keep offering for sale? I assume the “exotic talents” you mentioned have to do with that? What are your greatest skills, Master Dustwalker? Solomon: How much time do you have? I’m teasing… mostly. Do you need an item acquired from some supposedly safe location? I am a master of stealth, sleight of hand, pick-pocketry, lock defeat. Perhaps there is special information you need and only certain people are privy to these secrets? I ooze charm and my tongue is plated with silver. I am as comfortable in the Goblin King’s court as I am a high-society ball or a tavern’s backroom. Should danger arise, I am an accomplished swordsman and am never short a dagger or two upon my person. And magic—did I mention magic? I even know a little bit of dark sorceries, should the extreme need arise. However… Me: However? Solomon: Well, those are forbidden arts, of a sort. The kind I know, at least. As I said, should extreme needs arise… Me: Impressive, sir. I see now why you enjoy such a reputation for sinister services. Solomon: Sinister? You wound me, sir. My business is as honest as a Silver Scepter. A common saying. The Silver Scepters are the guild of bankers and money lenders… Me: Um, yes. Well, I certainly appreciate your cooperation so far. My last question you may be less keen to answer, though. Do you mind sharing, what would you say is a weakness of yours? Solomon: A weakness? Hmm… You know, I can’t think of a single one. A woman appears at the door from the noisy tavern’s common room beyond. She is lovely with long blonde hair and dressed head to toe in black, similar to Solomon’s own style. Woman in Black: Sol! There you are. I’ve missed you, dear. Come buy me a drink. Solomon arches his eyebrows at me. Overly eager, he pulls his flatten disc from its hiding spot, pops the top open again, quickly slips free from his chair and is back on his feet. Solomon: It’s been lovely speaking with you, sir, but it seems it’s time to go. You can find me again should you need more honest questions answered. Or any of the other services we’ve discussed. Coming, love! I take his expedient exit at her call as answer to my final question…
Stand back, mathematicians! Are you guys ready for this? How's this for some math? Only 72 hours since the Dragon Slayers' Guild Kickstarter campaign went active. 73% of the goal accomplished already. Almost 3/4 in just 3 days! 54 ebooks pledged to go out. 6 paperback copies, 2 of them signed by the author (that's me). 48 audio stories pledged to go out. And all of that is going to just 13 backers so far! So many goodies to only a handful of people! I am so proud to be pledging 108 forms of fantastical fiction to you guys in just 72 hours, with all that accounting for just 13 readers/listeners signed up so far! The mathematical entertainment quotient is mind-blowing! I encourage you to share these numbers far and wide, my nerdly brothers and sisters. Let's see how many people's stockings we can stuff with entertainment goodies post-Santa season! Thank you for making this possible!
First off, I have to apologize a bit. I know I've been bombarding folks about this project. But it's a big deal for me. I've spent the last year writing this book. And the last month putting this Kickstarter campaign together to help pay for the expenses of publishing a book and making it the best it can be. To tell the truth, it's been stressful and today is a huge relief. Because it's finally LIVE! No more waiting and wondering if anyone will care. Because someone already does! So let's get this campaign started! https://www.kickstarter.com/projects/jdbrink/dragon-slayers-guild-a-heroic-fantasy-adventure I'm happy to say that in the first 24 hours, we’re already 22% of the way to our final goal! That's a way better response than I was expecting. I can finally stop holding my breath and just breathe it all in! I will be sending along some more fun bits over the next 3 weeks, in my newsletter and as Kickstarter updates, such as character interviews and world-building background on this new realm I've created. In the meantime, if you think you might end up contributing to the campaign, remember that the sooner you sign up, the more bonus goodies you get! You can now see the (crappy) video I made, browse all the reward levels, and sign up for up to 3 extra audio-stories, all yours just for joining the cause! THANK YOU for your consideration. THANK YOU for telling other potentially-interested fantasy fans about this, so they can get all these rewards for cheap too. And THANK YOU for reading!
Just days from now, the Dragon Slayers' Guild Kickstarter will kick off! And if you sign up as a backer by January 15, you can get the ebook novel and 4 audio-short stories, all for just $10! Read about the details in today's newsletter: https://preview.mailerlite.com/g1n0g2f5s0 And get notified of the launch here, on Kickstarter: https://www.kickstarter.com/projects/jdbrink/dragon-slayers-guild-a-heroic-fantasy-adventure
Fur days from now my Kickstarter will begin! In the meantime, you can read the first couple chapters of Dragon Slayers' Guild via Google Docs here: https://drive.google.com/file/d/1_75RdsI54ON4jUKl6d3di0sbo6UMH1XT/view?usp=share_link Enjoy!
Al long last! It took me almost a year to write this book (which I started about 53 weeks ago!). And I've spent months prepping the Kickstarter to fund it's editing and cover art. And now that time has... almost come. But you can check out the Kickstarter preview page. Go here and have KS email you when the project goes live! There will be lots of goodies to be had! And since the video isn't live there yet, you can see it on Youtube by clicking here. (It's no high-dollar production, but it gets the point across.) There's not much point in me typing any more than this. The video and Kickstarter page will tell you more than I can here. Thanks for checking them out. Stay tuned, more details to come!
(Hmmm... I hope the resolution turns out okay on that image there... Looks kinda grainy as I'm typing this...) Another year down the time warp drain. I don't really need to say it, do I? Every year goes faster and faster, am I right? None of us can believe the date right now. Nobody understands the every accelerating flow of time. Let's just accept that we're all in a time warp and move on, okay? The good news, though, is we all thought the AI Apocalypse would have taken over by now. And since there are no terminators stalking our neighborhoods for survivors, we can celebrate! Yeah! And, of course, New Years is always a great periodic restart. An opportunity to look at how things are, what we've been doing, and give it a new tweak. Take a new running start at life. I'm definitely trying some new things for 2023 -- like a life-altering approach to making a living -- and we'll see how the Grand Experiment goes! Speaking of new things... At long last, I can show you my new book cover! I went big for this one, hiring Rebekah's expert services at Vivid Covers rather than patching my own stuff together. Most of the time, I hired the talented Mr. Erik (or Mr. Henry--he goes by both names and refuses to tell me which he prefers), who drew all the heroes for my superhero books and a few other cover images for me. But then I would take his work, or some stock images, and make do all the design work to make the final cover. And most of those, I think, turned out on the slightly better side of "okay" but... They certainly haven't been the best. I'm hoping this one ranks a bit higher with the "oohs and aahs" factor. So above is the official cover for Dragon Slayers' Guild , featuring Selene, the badass dark elf ninja! If you'd like to get (better formatted) emails on news like this straight to your inbox, go to this link and subscribe to my "Conspiracy Newsletter". (Don't worry, that's just a fun name. There are no crazy conspiracy theories there.) https://www.subscribepage.com/jdbrinkconspiracy To check out this story on the newsletter, which includes 379 books on special offer right now(!) go here: https://preview.mailerlite.com/d1m8t6p8e8 Thanks for reading!
More holiday goodies: 544 books! I'm promoting my fellow authors with these four big promo deals! And yes, there are literally 544 entries between them. Some are free, some are on sale, all are worth checking out! Since it's easier to provide one link than four, click here to go to today's newsletter, where there are four nice little buttons for your convenience. :) https://preview.mailerlite.com/q2x4h9w4q2
The biggest shopping day of the year is almost here. But you can score three big scifi/fantasy hits right now, no elbow pads or crowd combat required! I'll keep this short and sweet. (I'm supposed to be helping to prep the house for THXGVG after all!) RIGHT NOW you can get all three of these books at a reduced price of $2.99 USD on Amazon. That's a 40-67% savings on three of my biggest books! HERO CRISIS is the four-volume boxed set of mature superhero action-adventure. ( That's right, four books for just three bucks! ) Click here to check it out. WILDCARDS is dark urban fantasy and gritty noir horror. It includes the novel One-Eyed Jacks and 8 more shadowy short stories. GREEN-EYED MONSTER collects 18 novellas and short stories all across the galactic spectrum of science fiction, fantasy, and horror. Perfect while you wait at doctor's offices or commute on the train, bus, or starliner. Is that short enough? Check them out and grab them fast before the post-turkey nap kicks in and robs you of your chance!
Just a quickie post here today. I have been too busy to toot my own horn about this but catching up now. Back on Black Friday, 2021--almost a year ago now--I made the decision that this was the book I was going to write. Switching off from two other sci-fi ideas I had been mulling over. I was inspired to make the choice by some fantasy miniatures I'd scored for cheap at a local game shop during Black Friday pricing. The figures I bought represented the characters I had in mind for this book/series. And so inspired, I said, "It's time to give them life!" I spent about a month thinking and planning and plotting. (And the next 10+ months continuing to do the same, sculpting and redirecting and reshaping the outline the story progressed.) I started writing on the last week of December, 2021. And have now finished the first draft on the 2nd day of November, about 10 full months later! Next comes my least favorite part: starting at the beginning and revising the whole damn thing! BLAAGGHH! I hope this process will only take a matter of weeks, though. ...And even typing that line out makes me scoff at myself. But I'm going to try! (And actually, I screwed up putting the details on that image -- if you count the prologue and epilogue, the book has 41 chapters.) Excelsior!
