This is it, folks. This is the end of the Valentine series. Book 5 will be out within the next week or so, but in the meantime, here’s a preview … Continue reading Preview: Valentine 5: The Queen’s Fold
This is it, folks. This is the end of the Valentine series. Book 5 will be out within the next week or so, but in the meantime, here’s a preview … Continue reading Preview: Valentine 5: The Queen’s Fold
Greetings, good readers! I’m working on a new book, The Witch of Fulton Lane. This will be my first supernatural story, and I’m looking forward to sharing it with … Continue reading Preview: The Witch of Fulton Lane
Hello, everyone. If you’ve been following me, then you probably know by now, each month I choose a different theme for my website, woolastonentertainment.com. This month’s theme is all about … Continue reading Notes on Your Fame Will Destroy You
Hello everyone. Here is a sample from my latest book, Novocaine. Enjoy!
10. The New Erin
Mom really wanted me to look into going to school, but I convinced her, it would be better for me to get a job. We needed money. I made a list of all the things I knew Mom needed to pay for, such as insurance for her car, gas, our prepaid cell phones, metro cards, food, and the storage unit in Georgia. She couldn’t do it alone. So, I started putting in applications again. A few places were a little skeptical of even considering me, because of my age. I reminded them, I would be turning eighteen in January.
Finally, I applied at a bookstore called The Strand. On the application, I was asked to match the titles of classic, well-known literary novels with their authors. It was child’s play. Three days later, I received a phone call, to come in for an interview. During the interview, the manager asked me which books I’ve read. I told him all about my childhood love of books, and listed some of my favorites. The manager mentioned it was interesting to meet someone my age, who had read more classics than “fluff”. The interview ended with the standard, “I’ll give you a call”, so I went home and waited. Thankfully, the following day, he did call me, to say I had been hired.
When I got off of the phone with the hiring manager, I screamed like an idiot. I immediately called Mom at work to give her the good news. She said she was proud of me, and working in a bookstore would be good for me. I’d be surrounded by the works of my favorite authors. Plus, I was happy I’d be working in a place where I didn’t have to dress up; I could come to work dressed as myself. My new self.
My first day at The Strand, I realized, I really didn’t have to wait to change my hair. In fact, changing it now would help me blend in a bit more. There wasn’t much of a dress code at The Strand; employees were either dressed in renaissance-style clothing, or punk, or Goth, or grunge, or…whatever. My first day consisted of a tour of the store, learning where each section was located, and watching one of the cashiers run a register. One of the managers said I probably wouldn’t be on the register very often, according to my application and my knowledge of literature, I’d be more useful at the customer service desk or on the floor.
After work, I stopped by a drugstore, and bought a box of black hair color and a bleaching kit. My plan: dye my hair jet black, and bleach my bangs. I’ve been wearing my natural color (dark brown) my entire life. The new Erin required a new hair color.
I followed the instructions to the letter. After dying, shampooing, conditioning, then blow-drying my hair, I had achieved the results I wanted: black hair with bleached bangs. I had also bleached two locks of hair in the front.
“I didn’t think I was going to like it,” Mom said, when I was finished. “But I have to say it looks nice.”
“Thank you,” I said. “I like it, too. I needed a fresh start.” It was a pleasant distraction from the house we were currently living in, and the lop-sided bed I had to sleep on. I know, I’m being negative, and I should be more grateful…I am grateful. But I’m also pissed off at my family, for putting us in this position. Perhaps, I can channel that anger into something positive.
I decided to walk up to Main Street, to the 99 cent store. Mom came with me. I needed some supplies: notebooks, pens, a sketchpad, and the cheapest colored pencils I could find. Roaming the aisles of the store, made me miss a familiar place in Hampton: Paul’s Arts and Crafts. I loved that place. I should stop thinking about it, though. Thinking about it makes me miss Virginia.
I figured, I’m a nerd of sorts, but just being smart doesn’t classify you as a nerd. Liking very specific things, is what makes you a nerd. In my mind, I made a short list of what I liked: punk rock (thank you Green Day and My Chem), art, books (good books, not “fluff”) and science fiction. So, I decided the new Erin needed to devote more time to the things I (she) liked. I used to draw when I was younger; I needed to start drawing again. Mom and I were going to change our driver’s licenses over from Virginia to New York, which meant I’d be able to get a library card and do more reading. And as far as music was concerned, I needed to get into more bands.
During one of my days off I spent the entire day in the library up the street from Aunt Ella’s house. I gathered every book and magazine they had on punk rock, past and present, and started reading and taking notes. I wrote a lot of poetry when I was in school; maybe I could give song writing a try.
I wanted to absorb everything. Gilman Street. Green Day’s beginning. My Chemical Romance’s New Jersey roots. Patti Smith. London punk rock. The Who. The Clash. The Smiths. The Ramones. How punk wasn’t just the way you looked, it was a state of mind. All of it. This would build the new Erin. This would build the new me.
Mom and I agreed to save as much money as possible. In between saving, since I had a job, I was permitted to make small purchases here and there. Nothing major. If I saw an inexpensive band T-shirt, or a magazine, I could buy it with my own money. It made me feel normal, or at least, next to it.
END OF SAMPLE
Greetings, folks. Sorry I haven’t posted in a while. I’ve been busy reading, writing and working. But I’m back now, and I intend to post more often. First up, is a sample from a book I’m working on. The working title is “Novocain”. I may change it between now and its completion. We’ll see. “Novocain” will serve as the in-between novel, that will bridge a gap between “Our Lady of Righteous Rage” and “Your Fame Will Destroy You”. The story is centered around Erin, a new character you’ll meet in “Your Fame”. Here’s a little sample. Enjoy.
At nineteen, I had decided to completely free myself. After all, who was going to stop me? I felt as though I had no choice in the matter. I had hidden away the things I held dear, for far too long. I had been keeping the real Erin under lock and key, only letting her out on Halloween, when I could wear all black and extreme eyeliner without having to explain myself to everyone. But this had gone on far too long. This had to come to an end. Keeping your true self hidden away from the world isn’t living…it’s just existing. I didn’t want to just exist anymore. I wanted to live. I wanted to be me.
My first attempt at freedom, was at a speed dating event, in Chelsea. The women sat down at tables while the men played musical chairs around the room, sitting and “dating” for two minutes at a time. Every guy who sat across from me, wasn’t quite what I wanted. Khakis, polo shirts, or sagging pants…not my scene. There was one guy, who began our date with a joke. He introduced himself as Holden Caulfield, so I told him I was Esther Greenwood. We both laughed; we were probably the only two people in the room who understood that reference. In that two-minute span, I learned Holden was a bookworm like me, but that was all we had in common. He liked classical music. I liked punk rock. He dressed in bright colors. I dressed in black.
Another guy noticed my black attire and asked if I was going to a funeral. I smiled and replied, “Soon.” He stood up before our two minutes had ended. Pity.
“He probably thought you were a witch,” Mom said, when I told her all about my mini-dates. “You’re not going to get a date like that, Erin. Men don’t want a creepy little Goth girl.”
“Some do,” I said. “I don’t want the Prep School Polo shirt wearing dildo who’s daddy is in charge of some hedge fund. That’s boring.”
“Then what do you want?” Mom asked.
I paused. “I’m not sure yet,” I said. “I just know what I don’t want.” I sighed, and shook my head. “Maybe I should just give up on dating, and buy a body pillow.”
Mom cocked an eyebrow. “A what?”
“A body pillow,” I said. “You know, one of those extra long pillow? The ones that are the length of your body? At least I’d have something to hold on to when I’m in my bed.”
“I don’t want to imagine what else you’d be doing with that thing,” Mom muttered. I playfully punched her arm, and she punched me back. Most of the girls I grew up with, could never have this sort of conversation with their mothers. But my mother was different. I suppose that developed from her being a single mother, as so many mothers are. Its been me and her for almost as long as I can remember, so we’ve always been able to talk about anything. For instance, I once asked her why so many women threw themselves at Mick Jagger.
“I mean, he’s not even that good looking,” I said. “I just don’t get it.”
“He’s got a lot of money,” Mom had replied. “And he probably has a huge dick. When you’re rich and you have a huge dick, you don’t need to be good looking.”
I had never laughed so hard in all my life! Anyone else who had heard their mother say such a thing would have blushed or felt embarrassed. But not me. That’s just the way it was between me and Mom.
I quietly made my way into am indie record store near Union Square. I was one of only two female patrons there. I found a rack full of discounted vinyl and began searching through it. A guy with dark brown hair walked over and stood beside me. “Looking for anything in particular?” he asked.
“Patti Smith,” I replied, looking up from my search only long enough to see he has blue eyes.
“Who?” he said.
Who? The fuck do you mean, who?
“Patti Smith,” I say again, as if this will suddenly educate or remind him as to who Patti Smith is.
“What kind of music does she play?” he asked.
I slowly looked up from the records, and turn to him, in silence. “Seriously?”
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Greetings, everyone! I’m currently working on the third installment of the Valentine series, titled “Valentine 3: Queen of Hearts”. At least, that’s the title I’m working with now…it may change in the very near future. Anyway, I wanted to share a little sample of what I have so far. There’s going to be a lot of action in this third book, and our hero Val is going to learn a dark secret about her family. Plus, you get to officially meet Allan and Mac Avery! Enjoy.
Chapter 2:
Right Car; Wrong Girl
Veronica woke up early the next morning, and wandered into the bathroom in the hallway. She stood in front of the sink and turned the knob for the hot water. She let the water run for a few seconds before she cupped her hands under the faucet and collected a handful of water, and splashed it on her face. She shook her head vigorously and blindly felt the towel rack to her right for her towel. When she found it, she dried her face, and gave a happy sigh. It was the first morning, the household felt whole. Her uncle, cousin, sister, and friend were together under one roof. Things could be normal again. She finished drying her face, and returned to the sink, and looked at her reflection in the mirror mounted on the wall. She leaned forward, and noticed her brunette roots were peaking through her fuchsia dye. She wondered if she should bother to dye her roots to match the rest of her hair, or if she should remove the fuchsia all together. There was no need to decide now. She could ask Val for her opinion, when she woke up.
There was movement down the hallway. She heard a door open, and the footsteps walking down the hall. It was Vincent. He noticed Veronica standing in front of the sink, and paused. “You’re up early,” he said.
“Yeah, couldn’t help it,” Veronica said. “I guess I couldn’t sleep. Want some breakfast?”
“Sure,” Vincent said. “But maybe we should wait for the others to get up?”
“No need,” Veronica said. She smiled and walked out of the bathroom, and followed her uncle down the hall and into the kitchen. “The smell of food will draw them out into the open.”
After Melinda and Victoria had left for school and Vincent had left for work, Val and Veronica were alone in the apartment. Outside, it was dreary and overcast; the weather forecast was calling for snow. Veronica stared apprehensively out the kitchen window. “It’s gonna snow,” she said. “I was planning to go to the store.”
“You might want to go now,” Val said. “Before it starts. Want me to go with you?”
“Nah, it’s okay,” Veronica said. “I’ll be right back. We just need a few things.” She ran her fingers through her hair and turned away from the window. “Say: do you think I should dye my hair, or just go back to my natural color?”
Val was busy drying the dishes in the dish rack and putting them away in the cabinet. “You want to be a brunette again?” she asked.
“I’m thinking about it,” Veronica said. “I don’t know. Let me get going so I can get back before the snow begins to fall.” She walked back to her bedroom and went into her closet. She pulled out a denim jacket and a black baseball cap with the band name My Chemical Romance embroidered on the front in white letters. She slid into her jacket, and found a bobby pin on top of her dresser, and used it to pin her hair up. She put the cap on, and grabbed her handbag. As she headed down the hall and towards the door, she called over her shoulder, “Need anything while I’m out?”
“Nope, I’m good,” Val replied.
“Okay,” Veronica said. She exited the apartment, and went downstairs and outside, to her car, a Honda Civic. She climbed inside and put her key in the ignition. The engine sputtered for a moment, then shut off. Veronica cocked an eyebrow, then tried again. She groaned, and tried one more time. The engine struggled, but shut off once more. She looked towards the apartment, and saw Val coming outside. Veronica smiled, took her key out of the ignition and stepped out of her car.
“I heard it struggling,” Val said, nodding towards the Honda. “Take my car, and I’ll take a look at yours.” Veronica smiled gratefully and she and Val exchanged keys.
Veronica opened the door to Val’s 1967 Ford Mustang. “It’s going to be kind of weird, driving your car,” she said. “Are you sure you’re okay with this?”
“If I can’t trust you, who can I trust?” Val said.
Veronica grinned, and climbed into the car. As she started the car, the roar of the engine gave her a strange sense of satisfaction. She waved to Val as she pulled off.
A silver Camaro followed Veronica as she turned onto her street, on her way back from the grocery store. She parked Val’s car in it’s usual spot, across the street from the apartment. The silver Camaro parked two cars behind. When Veronica climbed out of the car, she didn’t see the man with dark blond hair walk up behind her, with a pillow case and a strip of packing tape in his hands. She wasn’t prepared for the tape coming over her head and landing across her mouth. She wasn’t prepared for the pillow case (which had been doused with chloroform) to suddenly slip over her head. Within seconds, she went from normal, to kicking and muffled screaming, to relaxing and falling asleep. The blond man lifted her up, and carried her over his shoulder. He opened the door to the Camaro, and slid her body into the car, laying her across the back seat. Then he climbed into the driver’s seat and drove away.
As he turned a corner, his cell phone rang. He answered the call, and put the phone on “speaker”. “Yes?”
“Hey Allan!” a female voice said. “Are we still having dinner together tomorrow?”
“Of course,” Allan replied. “Can I call you back later? I’m a little busy at the moment.”
“Okay,” the female said. “I’ll talk to you later.” The call ended, and Allan continued driving.
Allan carried his victim into his apartment building through a rear entrance the janitorial staff used. He used the staff’s elevator, and went up to the sixth floor, to his apartment. Once inside, he gently set her down on the couch, and sighed. “Okay,” he said. “I’m going to remove the sack. I need you to be quiet, okay? No screaming, or kicking, or anything like that. Nod if you understand me.”
She nodded her head.
Allan smiled. “Good.” He reached over, seized a handful of the pillow case, and pulled it off of her head. Her baseball cap came off as well. Her long fuchsia hair fell down. His smile quickly faded. “Oh,” he said, quietly. “Oh….oh boy. You’re not Valentine.” He reached over a second time, and peeled the tape away from her mouth.
“No, I’m NOT Valentine,” the girl said.
Allan put his hands on his hips. “Damn,” he said. “I can’t believe I grabbed the wrong one.”
“Who are you?” the girl asked. “And what do you want with my cousin?”
“Your cousin?” Allan asked, raising an eyebrow. “What’s your name?”
“Veronica,” the girl said. “And you are…”
“Allan,” Allan said. “Jeez, I’m sorry. I meant to grab Valentine. I saw the Mustang, and I figured you were her, and…oh boy.”
“So, you meant to kidnap my cousin?” Veronica said, narrowing her eyes at him.
“Well, yeah,” Allan said. “You know, when you say kidnap you make this sound worse than it is.” He sighed heavily, and shook his head.
“Why am I here?” Veronica asked.
“I was hoping you could help me get my ex back,” Allan said.
“That’s a stupid plan,” Veronica said.
“Yeah, in hindsight, I guess it is,” Allan said. “So, your name is Veronica?”
“Yep.”
“I’ll bet everyone calls you Ronnie, eh?”
“Only my cousin calls me Ronnie.”
“Oh,” Allan said. “Right. Of course. So, I assume you have a cell phone, right?”
Veronica reached around and dug into her back pocket, and retrieved her cell phone.
“May I?” Allan asked, holding out his hand.
Veronica rolled her eyes and handed him her phone. He scrolled through her contacts until he found the name Val. “Val?”
“Yeah,” Veronica said, flatly.
Allan pressed “send”, held the phone up to his ear, and waited.
There was a knock at the Entienne door. Val answered it, and let Lola inside the apartment. “Hey, Lola,” she said. “Have you heard from Veronica?”
Lola stared at Val in confusion. She looked over at Melinda and Victoria, who were sitting side by side on the couch. “No,” she said. “Why? What’s the matter?”
“I’ve been trying to reach her,” Val said. “I called her cell, but there was no answer. My Dad hasn’t heard from her, either. It’s not like her to just ignore my calls.”
Lola furrowed her brow. She looked over at Melinda and Victoria again. “You two are home early.”
“Half day at school,” Melinda replied.
Suddenly, Val’s cell phone rang. She pulled it out of her pocket, and looked at the screen. Veronica’s picture and phone number appeared.
“Is that her?” Lola asked, hopefully.
Val nodded, and answered the call. “Ronnie! It’s about time. I was worried about you.”
“I’m actually not Ronnie,” a voice said.
Val paused. “Who is this and why do you have my cousin’s phone?”
“Hi. My name is Allan,” the voice said.
“Hi,” Val said. “Where’s Veronica?”
“She’s with me,” Allan said. “Don’t worry: she’s safe. I made a little mistake. It’s a funny story, really. But, anyway, she’s with me. You can have her back, I just need to meet with Lola Vencent.”
“You want Lola?” Val asked. Lola gave her a puzzled look.
“Incidentally, is she there with you?” Allan asked. “Can I speak to her?”
“Yeah, sure,” Val said. She handed her cell phone to Lola. “He wants to talk to you.”
“Me?” Lola asked. “Who the hell is it?”
“Allan,” Val said.
“Allan?” Lola said. “Oh, my God.” She accepted the phone, and held it up to her ear. “Allan? Allan Avery?”
Allan smiled. “You remember me!” he said. “That’s awesome. How have you been, Lola? I’ve missed you.”
“Allan, why do you have Veronica?”
“I needed an excuse to get you to talk to me.”
“That’s a stupid plan.”
Allan sighed. “Veronica said the same thing. So, listen: I’ll let her go if you agree to meet with me.”
“Where?”
“Remember that diner we used to go to in Bayside? In an hour?”
Lola shook her head. “Fine,” she said. “One hour.”
“Awesome,” Allan said. “See you there.”
Lola ended the call and handed Val her phone. “Don’t worry about Veronica,” she said. “He won’t hurt her. I’m going to go get her back.”
“So, you know that guy?” Val asked, sliding her phone into her pocket.
“Yes,” Lola said with a sigh. “He’s my ex-boyfriend.”
Melinda giggled, and Victoria said, “Interesting.”
“I’ll be back,” Lola said. She turned, and left the apartment.
Val turned to Melinda and Victoria and asked, “What just happened?” The girls only shrugged their shoulders.
Lola entered the diner and looked around at the booths and tables. When she spotted Allan sitting alone in a booth, he waved her over. She sighed, and made her way through the dining room to his booth, and sat across from him. “Hello, Allan,” she said.
Allan flashed her a smile. “Hello, Lola,” he said. “You’re looking well.”
“Thank you,” Lola said. “So, why am I here? What do you want?”
“You,” Allan said, simply. “I want you. I want you back in my life, and I want to be back in yours. I wanted to show you, despite what happened today, I’ve changed since the last time you saw me.”
“And you thought kidnapping Veronica would help you achieve your goal?” Lola asked, raising an eyebrow.
“I meant to grab Valentine,” Allan said. “But, yes, I did.”
“Well, I’m here,” Lola said. “So, in a way, your plan worked.”
Allan smiled proudly. “We were good together, you and I,” he said. “We could be good together again.”
Lola sighed, and looked away. “Allan…”
“Come on, Lola,” Allan said, sweetly. “I’m not the man I used to be.”
Lola returned her gaze to him. She snickered, and shook her head. He was still cute and sarcastic. She was happy everything about him hadn’t changed. “Okay,” she said. “We’ll give it a try. Now, where’s Veronica?” She paused for a moment, then asked, “She’s not in the trunk of your car, is she?”
“Good Lord, no!” Allan said. “She’s back at my apartment. I wouldn’t do that to her.”
“Good,” Lola said.
“Since we’re here , do you want to order something?” Allan asked. “Their burgers are still good.”
“No, I really should get going,” Lola said. “And I’m going to need Veronica.”
“Okay,” Allan said. “Follow me.” He stood up from the booth and waited for Lola to stand up as well. She followed him out of the diner, to the parking lot.
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In “Fortune’s Wing: Second Flight”, Fortune Oyama and his friends return home…for a short time. Adam arrives to send Fortune on his second journey, or “second flight”. The fate of the world still hangs in the balance. Here is Chapter 1 of “Second Flight”.
1
A Second Flight
Fortune Oyama tossed and turned in his bed, clutching his bed sheets and mumbling something inaudible in his sleep. In his dreams, he was running down a desolate street, where cars had been overturned, buildings had collapsed, and humanity ceased to exist. He called for his sister, Haverdy, but didn’t get a response. He turned a corner and continued to run. Every street he came upon was the same. He slowed to a halt, and stood, catching his breath. “Haverdy?!”
A female voice finally answered. “She’s gone, Fortune. They’re all gone.”
Fortune looked all around him. “Who said that?” he asked. “Where are you?”
“You had a choice to make, and you chose to end it all. Now you must live with your decision.”
“What choice?” Fortune asked. “What are you talking about?”
“You chose to end it all, Fortune.”
Fortune ran from building to building, searching for the source of the voice. “Where are you?!” he demanded. “Where’s Haverdy? Where’s my sister?”
“You chose to end it all…”
At that moment, he woke up, and sat up in his bed. Looking around, Fortune realized he was in his room. However, the images from the dream were still fresh in his mind. His dreams were changing; becoming more intense. At first, the dreams had only been about a ruined world. Now, a voice was telling him about a choice. And Haverdy—where was Haverdy?
Fortune had only been home for three weeks since his first journey to find the Right Wing. Some days, he wondered if any of it had been real. Then he would look at the golden Wing Pendant in the top drawer of his dresser. The memories of Adam, the black ship, Breaker Island, the Golden City and the Tower of the Wings would resurface. He’d realize, they were more than just memories.
Fortune climbed out of his bed, and walked over to his window. He looked out at the street. He wondered about Adam; where he was and how he was. He said he would return when it was time for Fortune to begin his second journey. When would that be?
He opened his window, and let some of the hot July air inside. Today, he would spend time with his sister and their friends. Today, he would put his thoughts about the Wings and his dreams aside, and just be a normal teenager. He showered, got dressed, and went downstairs to the kitchen. His family was seated around the kitchen table. Haverdy was sitting with her arms folded on the table, her chin resting upon them. She looked up at her brother with an expression which said, “save me”.
“Good morning,” Fortune said.
“Good morning, son,” Mr. Oyama said, taking a sip of his coffee.
Mrs. Oyama sighed. “Morning,” she said, dryly. “Maybe you can talk some sense into your sister.”
Fortune cocked an eyebrow. Haverdy rolled her eyes.
“I just wish you would dress more like a girl,” Mrs. Oyama said.
Haverdy looked down at her baggy jeans and white polo shirt. “What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?” she asked.
“Nothing,” Fortune said, quickly. He walked over to the refrigerator, opened it, and took out an apple. He took a bite of it and said, “Ready to go?”
“Definitely,” Haverdy said. She stood up from the table, and followed her brother out of the kitchen and out of the house. “Thanks, Fortune,” she said, once they were outside.
“No problem,” Fortune said.
“You know what Mom and Dad think of me,” Haverdy said.
Fortune shook his head. “Don’t worry about what they think,” he said. “You know who you are, and I know who you are. That’s all that matters.” He smiled, and put his arm around his sister.
The Oyamas walked to a nearby park, where their friends were waiting for them. When Tony saw Haverdy, he laughed, and said, “Look who’s here! Fortune and his little brother!”
“Ha ha,” Haverdy said, narrowing her eyes at him. “You know, you really should consider a career in stand-up comedy. You’re just so funny.”
“I know, right?” Tony said.
“Ignore him, Haverdy,” Esrieve said. “What are we doing today?”
“Movie!!” Ringo declared. “The AMC has the best air conditioning.”
“But we’ve already seen everything that’s out,” Fortune said.
Haverdy shrugged her shoulders. “Then I guess we’ll have to see something twice,” she said. “Only trouble is, that place doesn’t open until eleven.”
“So we have to kill two hours?” Esrieve whined. “That sucks!” She bounced over to Fortune and hugged his arm. “What are we gonna do for two hours?” Fortune didn’t respond. He was staring at a small, elderly gentleman, dressed in a suit, standing across the street. Suddenly a bus drove by, and after it had passed, the elderly man was gone.
“I think I just saw Adam,” Fortune whispered.
Narumi stepped forward, and stood beside him. “I saw him, too,” she said.
“That old guy really freaks me out,” Ringo said.
“That had to be him,” Fortune said. “If he’s here, then that means—-”
“It’s time for your second journey,” Haverdy said, looking at her brother through worried eyes.
Tony sighed. “So much for seeing the Fourth of July fireworks,” he said.
Fortune and Haverdy didn’t get home until later that evening. They came in through the front door, and casually called “hello” to their parents. They were about to head upstairs, when Mr. Oyama called to them from the living room.
“Kids?” he said. “Can you come in the living room, please? There’s—–there’s something we need to talk to you about.”
Fortune and Haverdy exchanged worried glances as they entered the living room. Their parents were sitting side by side on the couch, with stern looks on their faces. Haverdy looked down at the coffee table and gasped softly. She nudged her brother with her elbow. Fortune looked down, and noticed his and Haverdy’s swords, lying side by side.
“I found those in your rooms earlier today,” Mrs. Oyama said. She folded her arms. “I was about to do the laundry, and I was looking for dirty clothes. Those things were under your beds.”
“Where did they come from?” Mr. Oyama asked. “And why do you have them? Why do you have swords?”
Fortune gulped, and Haverdy looked away. He felt her hand slip into his, and squeeze it. Haverdy turned to Fortune; her green eyes wide with fear. He wondered how he could possibly explain the swords. How could he make his parents understand?
“Fortune Gregory Oyama?” Mr. Oyama said. “I want an answer.” He leaned forward a little. “Say something!”
Mrs. Oyama leaned forward, too. “Haverdy? Well?”
“Perhaps I can be of some assistance,” a voice said.
Both Fortune and Haverdy stepped aside, and a small figure entered the room. He was dressed in a dark brown suit, and his silver hair was neatly combed back. Fortune smiled thankfully. “Adam,” he said. Mr. and Mrs. Oyama sat back and stared at Adam. Mr. Oyama cocked his head to one side, and said, “Dad? Is that you?”
Adam slowly nodded his head, and uttered a single word: “Sleep.” Both Mr. and Mrs. Oyama closed their eyes, and their heads slumped forward. Adam turned to Fortune and Haverdy. “You needn’t worry about them,” he said. “They’re asleep. When they wake up, they won’t remember any of this.”
“Are you sure?” Haverdy asked.
“That was you I saw earlier, in the park, wasn’t it?” Fortune said.
“Yes, it was me,” Adam said. “I’m here, because it’s time for you to begin your Second Flight.”
“What?” Fortune said.
Adam smiled at him. “Your second journey,” he clarified. “The one which will determine the fate of the world. I trust your friends will accompany you?”
“Of course!” Haverdy declared. “When are we leaving?”
“Right now,” Adam replied. “Pack your belongings and grab your swords. We’ll go pick up your friends, and be on our way.”
Fortune nodded, then looked over at his parents. He wished he could tell them where he was going; what he was doing.
“I know what you’re thinking, Fortune,” Haverdy said. “But they wouldn’t get it. They barely understand me , so they definitely won’t understand the fact that you’re going to save the world.”
Fortune smiled at his sister. “You’re right,” he said. “Let’s go.”

Time for round 2 of the sample chapters! Today’s post come from “Valentine”, the forst book in the Valentine series. Book one concerns Val’s road trip to California to save her father, followed by her first encounter with Lola Vencent, Rafferty’s Valkyrie. Here’s chapter one:
Chapter 1:
“I’d Rather Ride Solo” or “Road Trip”
It was early; around six in the morning. It was a good time to hit the road. Most people were still asleep, so the roads would be clear. The apartment was dark except for the light hanging above the dining room table. Veronica Entienne stood next to the table in her bath robe, with a mug of coffee in her hand. She watched her cousin Val stuff a few last-minute items into her black duffle bag. She was kneeling on the floor, forcing the zipper to close. When she accomplished her mission, she stood up, and slung the bag across her shoulder. “Okay,” Val said. “I’m ready.”
“Sure you don’t want any coffee?” Veronica asked. “It might help, Val.”
Val shook her head. “You know I don’t drink that stuff,” she said. “Besides, my adrenaline will keep me awake.” She sighed, and looked around the apartment.
Veronica set her mug down on the table. “You’re looking at this place as if you’re never going to see it again,” she said.
“I may not,” Val said.
Veronica shook her head. “Don’t talk like that,” she said. “You’ll come back. I know you will.”
Val smiled at her cousin. “Okay,” she said. “If you say so. You remember what to do, right? You’re okay with this?”
“Yes, yes, Val,” Veronica said. “All I have to do is take care of the rent and the bills, keep the place clean, blah blah blah. I can handle it.”
Val nodded her head. “Okay,” she said.
“Just make sure you do your part and call me every step of the way,” Veronica said.
“I will,” Val said. She placed her hand on the door knob, and slowly turned it. She opened the door, then paused and looked back at her cousin. “Gotta go, now,” she said. “Wish me luck.”
Veronica smiled sadly. “Good luck, Val,” she said. “Be careful, okay?”
Val smiled, and let herself out of the apartment. She walked down the hall, down two flights of stairs, and out of the building. It was time for her to begin her solitary road trip. Her method of transportation: her 1967 Black Ford Mustang. Her route: the infamous route 66. Her purpose: to locate Vincent Entienne, her father. Val walked across the parking lot of the apartment complex, and walked around her car, to the trunk. She opened it, and dropped her duffle bag inside. She looked around the parking lot for any sign that she wasn’t alone. When she was certain no one else was around, she unzipped a side pocket of the bag, where she had tucked a pair of .38 mm black handguns, and extra ammunition. She sighed heavily, then zipped the bag closed and slammed the trunk shut.
Val climbed into her car and started it, and backed out of her assigned parking space at Lindsey Towers Apartments. It was going to be a long drive from Chicago to Los Angeles, but she was determined to go.
Vincent Entienne worked for a man everyone knew as Rafferty. Vincent never explained exactly what he did for Rafferty, but Val knew it wasn’t anything legal or legitimate. Vincent always came home with money, but never a paycheck. Whenever Val asked what he did for Rafferty, he simply said, “I work, I get paid, and I take care of you and Veronica.” But lately, he seemed to be tired of his “work”, and he even talked about getting of the business. In order to quit, he would need a good reason, and he would need to speak to Rafferty in person.
Vincent came home one night in a panic, telling his daughter and his niece he needed to go away for a few days. Something came up, and he had finally decided to quit working for Rafferty. He had to go to California to talk to him. He couldn’t give the girls any details—-he just had to go see Rafferty.
“You have to tell us something, Dad,” Val said as she watched her father pack a dark green back pack.
“I can’t talk about it, Vally Girl,” Vincent said. “Let’s just say, Rafferty asked me for something I can’t give him. I’ll be back in a few days…..I promise.”
But a few days turned into a few weeks. Vincent didn’t call, and he didn’t answer his cell phone. When he didn’t return, Val decided to go to California herself. She would either find her father alive and bring him home, or avenge his death.
Val followed the signs for Springfield and entered route 66. “Hold on Daddy,” she whispered to herself. “I’m coming.”
Every few minutes, Val looked up at her rear view mirror, and saw a dark blue pick-up truck, one car length behind her. She first noticed it when she entered Springfield. Sometimes it would get lost behind another car on the highway, but it would always make its way back to her. It looked like the truck that belonged to her father’s partner , Jacob. Val had called Jacob after her father disappeared, hoping to get some information. Jacob didn’t answer any of her calls. Now, she was certain he was following her.
There was a sign indicating a train station was at the next exit. Val quickly changed lanes and took the exit. This caught the truck by surprise, and the driver missed the exit. Val laughed to herself as she rode around the curve. She drove to a traffic light and made a right turn, and went around another curve which took her directly into the parking lot of the train station. There, she found an empty space at the far end of the lot, parked her car, and turned it off. She gave a sigh of relief, and checked her appearance in her rear view mirror. She brushed away a few loose strands of her carnation pink-dyed hair that had fallen across her face, and got out of her car. She shook her head and stretched. Her journey had barely begun, and she was already being followed. Looking ahead at the station, she figured there had to be restrooms and vending machines inside. She could use the restroom, grab some chips and a soda and hit the road again. She didn’t want to stop again for another four hours, and she couldn’t afford to let anything slow her down.
Val entered the station and immediately found the ladies room. After using it, she walked around the lobby of the station, to a vending machine, where a dollar bought her a can of Pepsi. She popped it open and drank half of it down, and smiled. “Caffeine,” she whispered.
“I said leave me alone!”
“So what?”
Val searched the station’s lobby for the source of the argument, and found a young girl sitting in a chair about fifty feet away. Two teen-aged boys were standing around her. The girl was looking back and forth between them.
“Come on!” one of the boys said. “We’ll give you a ride.”
“I have a train ticket,” the girl said. “I don’t need a ride, so just go away!”
“You’ll have more fun if you ride with us,” the first boy said.
Val quickly finished her Pepsi and threw the can away in the closest garbage can she could find. She began to walk towards the two boys. “Hey!” she said. A few of the other people in the station looked up. The two boys looked at Val in surprise. The girl looked at her with gratitude.
“Didn’t she ask you to leave her alone?” Val asked. She stopped a few feet away from the boys.
“So?” the second boy said. “What’s it to you?”
“This isn’t any of your business,” the first boy said.
“Yeah, well, I’m making it my business,” Val said, calmly. “So, I suggest you guys leave that girl alone…..now.”
The first boy laughed. “Oh yeah?” he said. “Or else what? What are you gonna do?” He narrowed his beady brown eyes at Val. He took two steps toward Val, who grabbed his right arm and twisted it behind his back, and brought him down to his knees. The other boy backed away.
Val leaned in and whispered into the boy’s ear. “If you don’t leave her alone, I’m going to twist your arm off,” she said. She released his arm, and watched him stand up. He looked over at his friend, then the two of them turned and quickly walked away.
Val looked at the girl sitting on the bench. A smile spread across the girl’s face. She stood up from the bench and extended her hand to Val. “I’m Melinda!” she declared. “Melinda St. James. That was so cool!”
“Val,” Val said. “Val Entienne.”
“I can’t believe you saved me,” Melinda said.
“No problem kid,” Val said. “Are you here by yourself?”
“Well, yes,” Melinda replied. “I’m on my way to my grandparents’ house in Tulsa.”
Val shook Melinda’s hand. “Oh, okay,” she said. “Good luck, Melinda St. James. See you around.” She turned, and started to walk away.
Melinda gasped and turned to the bench. She grabbed the blue duffle bag she had shoved underneath her seat, and ran after Val. “Wait a minute!” she said. “You’re my hero! I have to repay you.”
“No you don’t,” Val said. “Its okay—-really.”
“Where are you going?” Melinda asked.
“California,” Val replied, dryly.
“Can I go with you?” Melinda asked.
Val stopped in her tracks and turned to face Melinda. “Aren’t you going to Tulsa?” she asked.
Melinda looked down at her feet for a moment. “Well, yeah,” she said, quietly. “But I don’t have to.”
Val sighed. “Look kid,” she began, “I’m traveling alone, and I have a schedule to keep.” She looked over at a corner of the station, and saw the two teen boys. Now there were three other boys with them. “Crap,” Val muttered. “They’re still here, and they’re multiplying.”
Melinda gave her a curious look, then turned and saw the boys. “Oh,” she whispered. “They’re back….”
Val stared at the boys and their friends. I can’t leave her alone here, she thought. Those boys are gonna mess with her again. And, Tulsa is on my way….
“Val?”
“Okay, kid,” Val said. “You can come with me. I’ll give you a ride to Tulsa. But that’s it.”
Melinda beamed with delight. “Great!” she exclaimed. “I won’t be any trouble—I promise.”
Val led Melinda out of the station and across the parking lot, to her car. “Give me your bag,” she said. “I’ll put it in the trunk.”
“This is your car?” Melinda asked. “Wow! It’s sooooo cool!”
“How old are you, kid?” Val asked.
“Fifteen,” Melinda replied, proudly. “Well, actually I’m fourteen, but I feel like I’m fifteen.”
“Oh Lord,” Val muttered. “This is going to be a long ride.” She unlocked the passenger side door, and Melinda climbed inside. As she walked around to her door, Val noticed the boys coming out of the station. They walked half-way across the parking lot and stopped. Val got into her car and started the engine. She rolled a few feet forward, then stopped, and revved her engine. The roar of the Mustang’s engine must have been intimidating, because two of the boys backed away. Val rolled forward again, then laughed as all five of the boys turned and ran back into the station. Val pulled out of the parking lot and smiled. “Idiots.”
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