Good morning
That's my book, Tomorrow you get the first chapters of the last one of the trilogy.
Canada at war.
I hope you enjoyed this one, it was far more kinetic than the last one, and the next one is going to be... fun
I mean, most of you know who's donning his Panama hat and heading up into snow to have a word.
Epilogue
WORLD END: T-minus 97 days, 15 hours, and 45 minutes
Champlain Valley Physicians Hospital, Plattsburgh, New York
The fluorescent lights of the trauma unit did not simply shine; they hummed with a sterile, electric misery that vibrated in the fillings of Andrew Carter’s teeth and drilled into the marrow of his skull. He was a man drowning in a chemical sea. The sedatives and painkillers formed a thick, woolly haze that blunted the sharpest edges of agony—the
Jack doesn't mess around when it comes to avenging Theo. That's his person, and whatever hell birthed that Horse, he's adamant he's sending bastards back there.
You know Peter's smirking with pride listening to this story and making some kind of witty comment about McCormick's defending Harding Virtue in haylofts.
i am sincerely glad it is working.
If it is as popular as it seems to be, I might try writing another one. I admit to really, really enjoying writing this one. I mean I am working on chapter 16 as we speak, and it's been about two weeks of writing. I just can't stop.
Gotta keep you lot coming back for more... and lil'Timmy's the perfect one, gotta channel his Great (however many times) Grandson Uncle Peter for Timing.
:: shifts a little :: I know this one has big chapters... I hope it is okay.
I also hope my first foray into Westerns is working. I am enjoying it, a lot... like a lot a lot.
Theo's interesting, Sawyer's all gunsmoke meets once upon a time...
Cobb's gonna eat that hat of his, force fed to him by one very angry horse hoof.
**Chapter 3: A Message in Blood and Bone**
The sun rose over Silver Creek like a fresh bruise, staining the grey granite peaks with ugly, promising shades of purple and yellow. From the window of his room at Mrs. Gable’s, Elias Sawyer watched the light bleed into the valley, and he thought not of beauty, but of violence. A bruise was a promise of pain remembered, and the memory of last night’s threat was a fresh, throbbing ache behind his eyes.
He hadn't slept. He was a statue c
Will in his fury is going to be a storm of hail, ice, and sleet. Forgive all the ice and snow metaphor, but a disassociated Will, with the kind of power he has at his disposal, and only one thing on his mind... you are right to be worried, but I think the risk is that he won't stop.
This should be interesting, it was extensive rewrites to this chapter, this was not how I saw it going originally, but I've been pouring a lot of work into the past five or so chapters.
And I have found what came out of it is... compelling.
I am going to have a lot of work to do restructuring the next book to reflect this. A lot of it is already there, but this aspect... I think Will's evolution is (from a writer's perspective,) fascinating. Abernathy thought his biggest threat was Andrew, how wrong he was. Angry Will, now that's something we haven't seen in any of the books yet.
Chapter Thity-one
WORLD END: T-minus 97 days, 22 hours, and 0 minutes
The House of Commons, Parliament Hill, Ottawa.
The silence in the Chamber was not peaceful; it was the suffocating, heavy quiet of a held breath. The Speaker of the House stood, his silhouette framed by the green leather and dark wood, looking out over the assembly of the Canadian government.
"The Yeas," the Speaker intoned, his voice echoing off the stone walls, "are one hundred and eighty-four."
Politicians used to be like this. Joe Clark, Jack Leyton. Diefenbaker and Pierre Trudeau each faced threats, and held themselves with honour through some pretty bleak times. Inspiring men different parties, different politics, but leaders.