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225 pages, Paperback
First published October 15, 2018





It was a peaceful evening at home, I was staying up late working on The Day Guard, the 4th book in my series about the Metaframe War. In between writing the usual stuff about Chloe’s quest for her liberty, Anton’s search for justice, and the various machinations of Cornelius, the Red Ghost, and the Raven - my phone rang.
I glanced at it - ‘private number,’ it read. I hate when that happens, you can’t dial back if you ever want to and whoever was calling wasn’t in my contacts list. But still, it was late at night, the cold callers seeking to sell me a new electricity plan, or property investment or something else I had no interest in only called when I was sitting down to dinner - so it wasn’t them.
With my curiosity piqued, I answered the call, putting the phone on speaker because I’ve got that paranoid fear about mobile phone radiation…
A voice with a noticeable French accent and clearly distressed said, “Merde! What have you done?”
He started swearing at me in incomprehensible French, and I’m thinking, Who is this guy? Then he reverted back to English and said in low, precise tones, “Fix it. Don’t imagine I can’t reach you. You’ll be sorry if you don’t sort this out.”
Then he hung up.
Goosebumps rippled along both my arms, the hairs rising in an atavistic response to the threat. A shiver bloomed up my back, and strolled over my scalp like a corpse stalking a graveyard. I didn’t know how but the caller could only be one person - Francis Mirovar.
“What the hell is going on?” I said, staring at my phone, rational disbelief struggling (and losing) with the utter certainty of the voice I’d just heard.
There was a knock on my office door. Trepidation warred with curiosity and I said, “Come in.”
The door swung open; Anton Slayne, Peter Lamb, Li Wu and Chiara Romano, all wearing street casual wear, strolled into my home office. (Making it pretty damn crowded in there, Peter really is one huge, wide unit…) I shook my head, dumbfounded by this weird turn of events.
“What the -” I started to say.
Anton shook his finger at me. “Hold it right there,” he snapped. “Now shut up and listen.”
The air in the room seemed to plunge half a dozen degrees, although I felt clammy, and broke out into a sweat as they surrounded my chair. Li stood opposite Anton and gave me a hard look as Peter’s big hands gripped my shoulders from behind.
“Wha… what do you want?” I stammered.
“Action.” Li said, her eyes gleaming with pent up desire.
“Action! I give you guys heaps of action.”
“Nah, you don’t get it,” Anton snapped. “We mean ‘Action.’”
Peter spun my chair around so I was facing the four of them and growled. “We’re young.”
“We’re good looking,” Anton said, tapping his hard muscled chest.
“We’re hot,” Li said, leaning in - her perfume wafting over me like electric silk.
“And very, very sexy,” added Chiara, with a suggestive look on her face that could tempt a monk.
“Hey, hey, hey,” I said, lifting my hands up and shaking my head. “I don’t do Paranormal Romance. No, no, definitely not!”
“Who said there had to be any romance?” Anton asked.
“Yeah,” Peter added. “We’d settle for, you know, ‘two warriors snatching a quick moment of bliss before the next battle.’”
Li tapped me on the chest and suggested, “You could fade to black if you really have to.”
“You’ve been wasting opportunities,” Chiara remarked, tossing her long dark hair from one side to the other.
Anton leaned forward. “So, will you do it?”
They all studied me expectantly, and four separate eyebrows raised quizzically. I turned back to my desk and wrote a quick note.
“So your making a note to add oodles of hot sex?” Peter asked hopefully.
“Nah, I’m making a note that I use a quizzically raised eyebrow far to often.”
“Damn!” Peter swore. “There’s no joy with this one.” And as one, they turned and left the room.
I took a deep breath and sighed, relieved to have got out of that unscathed. I turned back to my keyboard, hopefully there would be no further interruptions.
Someone scratched long fingernails down the outside of my window. The double glazing muffled their words and all I heard was, “Levf mef inphhhh.”
“Huh?” I grunted, nonplussed.
They raised their child-like voice and said clearly, “Let me in.”
Could this evening get any stranger? I got out of my chair and approached the window. Two figures emerged out of the gloom. The closer of the two was a girl dressed in black. Perhaps she was nine years old, or perhaps she was a thousand years old. Her eyes glittered in the moonlight like mirror shards. Behind her loomed a tall, cadaverous manlike creature, wrapped in a heavy dark cloak, his skin was chalk white. His eyes were black windows into hell, staring at me with barely restrained enmity.
The child smiled hungrily, “Let me in.”
“Hell no,” I said. “I’ll have no truck with the likes of you.”
“But you must,” she whispered. Her silent friend leered at me with an unsettling level of confidence.
Feeling the thin edges of compulsion I asked, “Why?”
“We are from the Guild.”
OMG, I thought, I’ve got a labor dispute on my hands.
“The Guild?”
“Yes,” she smirked. “The Guild of Vampire Characters.”
I sighed. “What do you really want?”
The tall one spoke, long fangs ringed his mouth, and the words sounded like they had been fished out of a deep, rank well. “Your vampires are shiny.” He grimaced with distaste, his words freighted with the most awful of insults.
“Your kidding. My vampires are all bad-ass.”
“Shiny,” the girl piped, her eyes hard and filled with dreadful certainty. “You must change them.”
I sighed again, and rubbed my forehead, I was beginning to get a headache.
“What if I don’t?”
She laughed, a tinkling sound of broken bells. “We will withdraw support for your use of vampires. All vampire characters will depart from your stories and never return.”
That’s harsh, I thought and said, “Okay, okay - I’ll sort it.”
“See that you do,” piped the girl. “Or, we will return.”
The tall one, drew a long taloned finger in front of his pale throat and then grinned broadly, displaying his fangs which gleamed in the moonlight. Mist rose around the pair, and they vanished into it.
I sank back into my chair, this night was a doozy. I decided I needed to restore my spirit with a good dose of spirits. I went to my pantry and poured myself a stiff drink. Returning to my desk, I sat down and lifted the tumbler to my lips, a thrill of delicious anticipation gracing my soul.
The night was broken open by a thunderous roar. A bright spotlight speared down from the sky onto my office window. An automatic cannon ripped into life, hellish fire tearing through the room, carving it apart in a cloud of splinters and plaster dust.
A sleek form, clad in a close-fitting black bodysuit fell through the gaping hole in my roof, landing in a fighting crouch next to me. A gleaming katana, a single ruby in the handle glittering in the harsh spotlight flashed in front of me, piercing my keyboard and pinning it to my desk.
Her pale hands gripped my shoulders and she leaned in. I whispered one word, “Chloe.”
She smiled knowingly. “Of course.” She tilted her head slightly and purred, “Did you think I wouldn’t come?”
A fell magnetism gripped me, I couldn’t look away. Her face was exquisite, her presence overwhelming. My tongue was leaden, my voice was robbed from me.
Her hands slipped upward from my shoulders and caressed my head. She leaned in further, her forehead touching mine, her vivid blue eyes staring into my soul.
Mesmerized; my mind folded into a quivering heap.
“What do you want?” I asked in a hoarse whisper.
“You already know,” she whispered. “Silly man - I’m just here to make sure you don’t forget.”
The fingers of her right hand stroked down the side of my face, and onto my chest.
I panted, my lungs suddenly too tight to breathe.
Her hand slid lower and all sorts of electricity went flying everywhere.
Then she was gone, vanished. The Nightfalcon roared overhead, its twin turbines screaming at full power. The spotlight swung away then extinguished with a final flash, silence returning with a sudden vengeance.
I crawled into a corner, turned and hugged my knees, my eyes darting everywhere - I vowed not to write another word until daylight.
That was for sure, sure, sure.
Crazy characters, always wanting something - there was no pleasing them. But it was too late, too late by far. Boundaries had been breached, there was no going back. They’d become too powerful to ignore.
Attaching a new keyboard to my laptop, I ignored my reckless vow and set to work.
It was a doozy of a night.
"Yes there would be sacrifices, terrible sacrifices, but the tree of liberty must be refreshed from time to time with the blood of patriots and tyrants."
"This war can claim everything your willing to give and more, and I suspect your biggest sacrifices are still in front of you."













"A species long thought to be extinct, but she’d always doubted that. No, they’d simply retreated into the fringes of the world, remaining hidden, and biding their time until they could rise again."