Lavender-colored rose against a technology background

Lavender Rose

“Daaammmmian,” a honeyed voice rang out from his apartment. “Please refrain from killing my men. I have no intentions of harming you.” The Syndicate obviously wanted him alive. Ignoring the voice, Damian used his free hand to quietly open the window at the end of the hall. “Really, Damian, I just have a job for you. There’s no need for this violence,” said the man.

Instead of entering through the open window, Damian moved to the closest apartment door. “I don’t work for the Syndicate anymore!” Damian shouted and shot down the hall, masking the sound of his boot kicking the door open. The door bounced, eliciting a scream from behind the door.

Slipping in quickly and quietly, gun first, Damian noted an obese naked and tattooed man stumbling back from the door swearing about a broken nose. The man’s belly bounced as he landed heavily on his rear. Damian pointed his gun at the man. “Shut up,” he said, his voice cold and deadly. He quickly shut the door behind him. The apartment’s layout looked like a mirror image of his own. The likeness ended there. This man’s slovenly messes littered every room. A terrible stench wafted out of the kitchen, and in the bedroom, a woman hid her nakedness behind some cheap blankets. Damian pointed the gun at the woman and repeated, “Shut up, now!”

The man nodded enthusiastically, encouraging her to capitulate. His eyes were wide with shock and fear, and blood stained his unruly beard. Damian returned his aim to the man.

After determining that the man and woman had acquiesced, Damian turned his body to the side, enabling him to peek out of the spy hole in the door while still keeping the pistol trained on the obedient man behind him. He heard the group out in the hall talking amongst themselves in Japanese. “He must have gone out of the window,” one said. Then the honeyed voice spoke again. “Follow him; don’t lose him.”

 

If you enjoyed this excerpt, stay tuned for more in Michael C. Sahd’s upcoming full-length novel, Lavender Rose (The DuFonte Chronicles, Book 2).

Lavender Rose
Lavender Rose Working Cover
Author Michael C. Sahd

 

Railroad Tracks And Silos
Standing by the Railroad Tracks . . .

 

Looking Into the Sun
And Looking Into the Sun!

Here are some new photos of me, contributed from a friend.

Also, it is Tuesday, which I hereby dub a “Teaser Tuesday”:

Pulling his heavy denim jacket closer around his lithe body, Damian let out a puff of cold mist, and shivered from more than just the cold.

Being stuck in North America for two years had been the most unpleasant time of his life. He had spent these years living off mice half the time, sometimes fighting wolves for his claim to the tiny rodents. The other half of that time, he had spent starving.

Briefly, toward the end of this stint, some crazy cult of religious people who avoided technology like the devil had taken him in, until he left to find a more civilized settlement. The settlement he found was deserted. He fell asleep in a shack and woke up unable to open the snow-packed door or windows. This memory, more even than the cold, elicited his shiver.

Feel free to let me know what you think of this teaser and/or these pictures in the comments below.

~ Michael C. Sahd

Michael and Ian, at Ian's Wedding

Today is Tennis Tuesday, so we went to the park to play some tennis. Today also seemed to be a productive day on the writing front. Because I’m in a good mood, I’ve decided to share a preview of what I’m writing for the sequel to “Assassin Marked,” which I may or may not use.

The restaurant had alternating yellow, blue, and green tablecloths, except for the booths that lined the walls of the diner. These booths had no tablecloths, but what they did have was occupants. It was as if the gaudy tablecloths repelled customers, except for two unfortunate families who could not find an available booth.

Noise from the chattering patrons and the clattering kitchen, created an incoherent babbling with the occasional shout of a child carried above the rest.

The walls were decorated with paintings of flamenco dancers, mariachi players, and old Mexico streets from the 20th century on earth. Ponchos and garish sombreros also squeezed into this decor, between the paintings.

The smells of tacos and chili made Lavender’s mouth water. She and Damian sat across from each other in a corner and at one of the booths. They had been waiting for awhile, and in a low intestinal groan, Lavender felt her stomach begging for food.

Damian leaned forward, “I don’t like this place. If there’s trouble, then we’re boxed in . . . .”

That’s all you get for now! What do you think?

~ Michael C. Sahd

My wife suggested I write about my post-publishing nervousness. Between Twitter, Facebook, Goodreads, LibraryThing, and this bloody blog (heh, I like the way that sounds), I’ve been working very hard to get the word out about “Assassin Marked.”

To be honest, I have no idea how to explain my nervousness. It could be the persistent itch to get more of my stories out there. Then again, it could be the fear of not doing well; the nagging question, “Will people like it?” One of my biggest fears at the moment is receiving a terrible review on Amazon.

But enough about that. I really don’t want to write about my nervousness. Rather, I would like to write about my progress. I spent a bit of time today revising some of the fiction piece I’m working on. It’s requiring that I studying the effects of post traumatic stress disorder in children, and the psychological effects of a parent losing his family. A little teaser there.

I’ve also been hard at work composing a more thorough historical time line for Damian’s world in “Assassin Marked.” Not for publication really, just notes for myself to help me remain consistent in my story. But I have many little stories springing up revolving around Damian, or the world Damian lives in.

My six-year-old daughter, on the other hand, decided that her pony needed a haircut for the weekend.

TGIF,

~ Michael C. Sahd