Topher Lydon

Chapter 15: El Coyote's Workshop The insistent, jarring ring of the cheap motel phone had broken the tension, only to replace it with a cold, analytical dread. Kenny, his heart hammering against his ribs, had slowly picked up the receiver—a heavy, beige thing—causing before extending it to Alex. The question of who could possibly be calling them, here, now, felt like an immediate violation of their fragile safety. Alex had taken the call, his voice low and tight with fever and pa

Interesting to read, and I enjoyed the interview a lot. Thanks.

Fairly common though, especially in Law Enforcement/espionage fields. Fields where there is a potential death from action. Cop shooting a suspect, or accidental death. Andrew has killed before, we know this, but so far in every book I've written, it's come from a place of defending himself, or HOT combat/heat of battle. I have never had him carry out an Termination order before, which I find is a very different beast. Andrew is a Lawyer turned spy. West by comparison is a Veteran soldier who has had to deal with it before. Thus their two very different persepctives. I find Andrew isn't reacting to what he did, he's reacting to Will's judgement of what he did. That's what he fears most, and we're really going to get into what makes Andrew tick over the next few chapters. I've been eagre to do a deep dive into him. We know Will's mind inside out, but Andrew has always been a bit distant from the reader. And I was asked, before writing this one, by a reader to get into what Andrew's side of things was. Why Andrew does what he does for Will, and what Andrew's psychology was all about. It's too easy to fall into the Mary-Sue side of Andrew, he's a character that skates the edge of it at times, and I need to be very careful of the ideal of Andrew, vs the more human (and to me, more interesting) Andrew. I don't know, I just like that there's more there. He fails, has failed before. He's made huge mistakes in the relationship with Will over the years (as Will has done in return, the can be wonderfully bull headed characters to write, and when they clash wow it's fun to write)

Also, cause it can't be stated enough, and might have been lost in the rest of the chapter. GO TOMMY!!! Bravery comes in so many forms, and Tommy is proving to be such a surprise and delight to write.

i really want to write a Noir style story at some point, Twink Fatale... Goons... and a mafia Crime boss that looks like Devine

Makes sure all involved is over a certain age where driving is appropriate, and they can vote... Otherwise they don't get polled.

"Jake-o, that's not the stick shift!!" Tommy reminded for the fifth time. Jacob shifts gears anyway. "Sure, this is an automatic!"

You all know Weston's sand surfing off the back of that thing...

Will loves his husband more. It is his critical blind spot, always has been. All he is seeing is his husband covered in blood and he is trying to fix it. It isn't him being a fool, it's him being human. And I agree with you, he can't be that man anymore, and that's going to be the hardest thing for him to learn. Let's see if he can meet this challenge, or if it's simply too much for him.

Just for that, I am going to make that happen

let's just clarify, McLeod is one of the big four, the original leaders of the conspiracy. She's the contingency plan should Gallagher fail. Our little game of Whack-a-mole is still afoot. Only one person keeps getting overlooked.

Will's being Will. He thinks he's right, and were things level it was the right move. But the Order loves to twist and weaponize good intentions. These lessons he is learning about power, and the weight of a crown on his head are going to be painful. But as someone pointed out before, Will no longer has the luxury of comfort, nor the time to adjust. He rises or he falls based on his ability to fight. Empires rise, Empires fall, and it takes sacrifice to hold a throne.

Tommy's began his journey towards his truth.

Chapter Twenty-Four WORLD END: 98 days, 3 hours, and 02 minutes CSIS Headquarters, Ogilvie Road, Ottawa. The Deputy Director's Office. The small, secure office was a sanctuary of cold, logical order, the only refuge from the chaos Andrew Carter controlled. He stood rigid by the window, the faint winter sunlight catching the granite severity of his face. He was in his operational uniform—crisp black suit, stark white shirt, and his signature borrowed silk tie tucked in—but

Lydia's got to be doing something while Steve's off saving the world.

Excellent, Steve's Car Wash and Pole Dancing service is about to get one heck of a show stopper

Perfection, Pizza boy it is... now to think up something odd, unhinged, and fun for our Pizza boy to get up to... and we need a love interest. open for suggestions. Let's go for something unexpected Like a Male Ballet Student who's secretly in a gang.... or the Math Nerd who's been left home alone while his parents go on a round the world cruise, without him. orrrrrrr.... Jordan the Skateboarder who's secretly been feeding homeless kids and keeping them away from evil parents. mmmmmmmmmmmm I really need to get a wheel for this sort of thing.

consistently thorough the books, Ben it Goofball, the coyote ones, or some I haven't released yet, it's Kenny's thing. I think I will take a short break after this one is done to write something... new and fun. I need light, goofy, and fun. Max and the incredible cursed locker room. or Nick and the revenge of the missing babysat. orrrrrr.... Pizza boy, where's the dip? I'll let you guys chose which one.

Jensens are always on top

I like that this is a Kenny and Steve book, they deserve their moments to show they aren't passive victims of Alex's life. And Kenny, just something about Kenny... for all his weirdness, OCD and need for a Squeaky Clean Steve, he's got a head on his shoulders. The next book though, that's 100% Steve's story.

Told ya

Chapter 14: The Ghost Town The Suzuki Jimny, running on fumes and prayer, died with a wheezing sigh just as Kenny slammed the brakes outside the Radisson Health Clinic. The sign above the automatic doors was tilted, one bulb flickering weakly in the cold morning air. Kenny barely registered the small, flat sprawl of Radisson—a scattering of gray, functional buildings built for the hydro facility, now looking like a backdrop for an apocalypse. The enormous absence of traffic, the close