As I was leaving work today, they handed me a birthday card that had a gift card to a coffee place inside it. While I appreciate the gesture, there are two things wrong with it. One, my birthday was almost two months ago. Two, I don’t drink coffee.
I burped earlier and it tasted like blueberry muffins. I found that to be odd since I didn’t eat blueberry muffins earlier. I ate Andy Capps Hot Fries and drank some Dr. Pepper. I’m still not sure how hot fries plus Dr. Pepper equals blueberry muffins.
He stood at the center while everything flowed around him. Chaos surrounded him, circling his body with the blowing wind. Everyone else had run for cover, but not him. Never him.
He knew how to use this power, to harness it.
His arms shot out wide to touch the swirling winds as they blew past him. At first, he struggled to keep them steady against the push of air. Then, he began to turn with it. Faster and faster he spun in the wind’s direction. It wasn’t long until it was sucked into him. He and the whirlwind became one.
Everything became a blur. He was moving so fast it felt like he was standing still. All around him things either went flying away or were brought into his vortex. He smiled. There was only one thing to do with this power and all of the people who had ever wronged him would soon regret their decisions.
That is, unless they, too, knew how to reap the whirlwind.
The Evan Buckley thrillers (although I would consider them more mystery than thriller. I only do so in this post because that’s how the author lists them on Amazon) are a series of books written by James Harper about the titular character, who becomes a private investigator after the disappearance of his wife and the lack of police assistance in locating her. So far, the series is fourteen books long, with the newest addition being released a few weeks ago. I have read the first seven of them as of this writing.
This series is another one that I started because I was able to get the first one free. (Seriously, if you have a Kindle, check out the Free section every once in a while. Sure, there’s a lot in there that’s not for you, but you can definitely find some gems in it.) To be honest, right now it’s the favorite of all the series I’m reading. While all the others are good, some even great, this is the only one where I have consistently had trouble putting the books down. The other series have had moments where I didn’t want to stop reading, but it’s been like that for each of the Evan Buckley books so far.
These books are kind of like a season of a television show. Each book is an episode with its own unique case, but it still has the larger story of his missing wife worked in here and there to tie it all together. Also like a television show, these books sport a good cast of supporting characters. And I do mean supporting. The characters are used to further the story without taking the focus off of Evan.
Now, these books aren’t nearly as good as Harlan Coben’s Myron Bolitar series. As far as I’m concerned, the Bolitar books are miles ahead of any other mystery books that are out there. These, however, are the closest mystery books to them that I’ve come across so far.
A few days ago, a few different people on Facebook shared the same image. It was this image here:
It’s definitely a chuckle worthy picture, but it brings up a good point. You view things differently as an adult than you did as a kid, especially if you’re a parent.
I saw a similar post to the one above a while ago about The Little Mermaid. I tried to find it, but couldn’t so I’ll tell you about it. It basically said that girls used to think that Ariel’s dad was an ass for trying to stop her from being with the prince. Looking back on it now, however, they realized that she was a 16 year old girl who was claiming to be in love with a grown man who she’d never met. Seriously, what father wouldn’t react the way he did when confronted with that?
I’ve published a few stories on here within the last few months. That’s been the extent of my writing recently. While that may seem like enough to some of you, it’s not enough for me. I want to write more. I’ve got many new stories that I want to tell. I also have the fifth installment of my Declevon Blackmoon series that has been sitting at somewhere between a half and three-quarters of the way done for a while now.
The problem is that I don’t really have a lot of time and I can’t muster up the drive to do any writing when I actually find the time to do so. I put a lot of thought and energy into the things I write, especially the things I publish on Amazon. The things I publish on this blog don’t take nearly the amount of work that my Amazon stuff does. If people are going to pay to read my words, I want them to be as good as I can possibly make them.
Don’t get me wrong, I want the people who read this blog to enjoy my words, but there’s a big difference between here and there. If I do make a mistake (it does happen from time to time) it’s very easy to fix it on the blog. On Amazon? Not so much.
Due to my lack of drive, instead of writing, I’ve been reading. I have a few book series that I’m going through at the moment. I know some people (most, probably) like to finish an entire series before moving on to the next one. I’m not like that, however. I don’t want to get bored reading the same genre over and over again. So, once I finish a book, I’ll switch over to a different series and read the next one in line. I have four different series that I’m going through right now, and I figure I’d tell you about them.
The first is The Legend of Vanx Malic by M. R. Mathias.
I got the first book of this series (Through the Wildwood) free on Amazon. I don’t know if it’s still free. Maybe I was lucky enough to catch it at the right time. You should probably check it out just in case. Perhaps you’ll be lucky too.
It took me a while to get through the first book, but that was only because it was the first book I ever read on my phone. I was having trouble getting used to reading something of that size on a screen that small. It’s a lot easier for me now, particularly because this was two phones ago and I have a much bigger screen. That has nothing to do with the book itself, so I don’t know why I’m putting it in here, but I just kind of went where my mind wandered off to.
Once I got past the screen issue, I liked everything about the book. It was paced well. There were intriguing characters. New creatures and races were thrown into the mix, along with a little humor now and then.
It was then when I figured out why he gave away the first book for free. He knew that he’d get you hooked once you read the first one and you’d buy all the rest…. and he was right.
I have all ten books in the series now. I’m about to start the seventh one. So far, they’ve all been just as good, or better, than the first one. If you’re into fantasy at all, or even just like good fiction, I would highly recommend them.
I watched the original Michael Keaton/Tim Burton Batman last night. Despite how long ago it was made, I think it still holds up fairly well. As I was watching it, I was struck by the untimely demise of an undervalued character in the movie. But, I thought to myself, what if he didn’t die? What if we just thought he did? What might have happened next for him if he were to survive his near death experience?
He woke up in a hospital bed. Tubes were sticking out of him. His heart monitor was beeping steadily. He went to remove some of the things that were either in or on him, but found that he couldn’t. Handcuffs kept his hands from being able to move far enough to get the job done.
Handcuffs? Why was he in handcuffs? His thoughts were going a mile a minute as he tried to remember what had happened. It didn’t come to him quickly. He lay in that bed for a few days until it all came back to him.
He’d been in a parade. His boss had to stop the parade early because of a troublemaker. The boss asked for a gun. When he’d obliged, the boss had shot him. Shot him for nothing. He had done everything that had ever been asked of him, including things that hadn’t been asked. He’d protected his boss. He’d followed people and photographed them for his boss.
With all of that, he’d still been shot over something another person had done. It wasn’t his fault that Batman had shown up. It wasn’t his fault that Batman had stolen the balloons his boss was using to poison the crowd. It wasn’t his fault that, once again, his boss’ plan had failed.
He had given everything to his boss. His loyalty. His trust. And it was all for nothing. Not only was it not appreciated, it was thrown away like it was nothing. He’d been shot and tossed aside like a piece of garbage. Only sheer luck had allowed him to survive. He heard the doctors talk about how it was a miracle that he was still alive.
While he was waiting for his memory to come back, he was able to glean what had happened after he was shot. One of the cops that checked in on him had left an old newspaper near his bed. He couldn’t reach it, but he was able to read the headline: JOKER KILLED IN FIGHT WITH BATMAN ON TOP OF GOTHAM CATHEDRAL.
He should have felt relief. The person who had hurt him the most was no more. The Joker couldn’t hurt him anymore. That wasn’t enough for him, though. He wanted to be the one to end Joker’s life. He wanted to feel the life leave the Joker’s body as he squeezed his throat and cut off his air supply. He wanted to pistol whip the stupid grin on the Joker’s face until it was nothing more than a pile of teeth and blood.
That would never happen now. Batman had taken that away from him and, if it was the last thing he’d ever do, he’d make sure that Batman paid for that.
It wouldn’t be now, though. It wouldn’t even be anytime soon. First, he had to recover. Then, he needed to learn how to fight. He wasn’t deluded enough to think that he was a match for Batman. The last time the two had fought, he’d turned and ran despite having a knife against the unarmed Batman. It was the smart thing to do. Now the smart thing to do was to fall back and regroup before he went after Batman.
He couldn’t do that in police custody, however. His body wasn’t in any condition to mount an escape attempt at the moment. He’d have to bide his time and be ready when the opportunity presented itself. He also needed to come up with a name for himself before he attacked Batman. After all, he wouldn’t command much respect attacking the Batman with his real name. Nobody was ever intimidated by a guy named Bob.