Topher Lydon

shhhhhhhhhh that's a secret...

This one was third in the timeline, but the second to last Carter book I wrote. I remember needing something fresh, to look at things from a different lens. I had never been happy with duty, and I wanted something to expand and build on that.

The bus Station was in Ottawa, good old Greyhound upper end of downtown I want to say near James Street from my memory.

The dedication plate of the USS Laffey, the ship that wouldn't die. I read it when I was going through what Will went through and it kept me strong. Thank you for giving me the full source of the quote, that was a gift and I appreciate it.

I apologize, A train accident put me in a wheel chair, my health collapsed as a result. I was put on heavy medications that left me a vegetable for a significant run of over five years. I've been through it, and writing simply wasn't possible. I can't promise this book, it's been so long and I am just not the same person I was. So much time was taken from me. I am sorry.

hi, yep it's me

Wow you guys made me blush

Reading into the rules and regulations for posting stories, I would be forfeiting certain rights and violating some of the site rules were I to post the series here. Considering I still get royalties from these books that are required income and that I might run afoul of the 'Bait and switch' rules as I have read and understood them, I can't release the rest of this series here at this time without talking it through with site moderators. I am sorry, these two books were published here *before* such rules existed, and I have always considered them to be free releases and happy for them to continue here as public access. But I do need to retain certain distribution rights on this series. I apologize if that is disappointing, but I intend to follow the rules of this site as written. They have been a tremendous source of support over the past twenty years of my writing, I respect them greatly, and I support their reasons for such rules.

Can do

Warehouse Max approached the warehouse door, looking at Jae who was standing by the damaged Lamborghini, the laptop on his lap as he squinted his eyes at the data on it. “Where’s…?” he asked, shrugging deeper into his coat, trying to ward of the frigid chill in the early hours of the morning. “She’s gone,” Jae said, shaking his head. Lifting his phone and showing Max the text message. Take Max and Run! “We have to do something…” Max said swallowing as he re-read t

With the final chapter going live today, that will conclude this book. Please let me know what you think of it, give a review, feedback is the fuel us authors need to keep going.

Hey all, happy to be back. To be releasing the end of a book, and breaking into my stash of other writings that are kicking about on my disks.

Warehouse District Mister Cooper drew the sharp knife across the leather of the seat cushion, reaching in to recover his memory card, relieved to finally have it back in his hands once again. So much trouble over such a small thing. He held it up to the light, the briefcase of money sitting on the roof of the car that was parked in the disused warehouse that he’d ‘borrowed’ years ago. An old Russian Mafia haven that had been forgotten in the clean up after Yeltsin had died. The owner,

MKAD In 1995-1997 the MKAD had been widened from the initial four lane road to a ten lane super-highway, all intersections had become grade-separated, and bridges were built to accommodate pedestrians. Along its great length traffic lights had been removed, and a solid concrete barrier had been installed in the median. In 2001 all slow-moving vehicles were banned from entering the MKAD and the renovated road officially received a freeway designation from the mayor's office. It now stoo

Would you believe that this was the first book I ever wrote. It predated all the others, and was the hardest for me to write, work in to the rest of the storyline. Were I to go back and rewrite this one would be the first I would do so with. When I wrote this one I was... not in a good place, it was written on the desk of a job I hated, in a city that was bleak and harsh. I remember being on a train, my head against the glass, staring at everything I hated and... well you get the idea. I didn't know it, but a friend of mine, Jamie, was on the train and right behind me. He watched me in my darkest, and most alone moment and reached out, just a simple hand on my shoulder, lending me a little of his strength and I got through it. This book is so raw with that emotion, and I owed it to myself to publish it. It is not my finest work, but the chapter with Will walking in the rain was the first short story I ever wrote, back when I was 15...

Eighteen chapters total to this one. So give it a few days and it will be finished up posting wise.

Jae’s Garage He loved his car, Boomer bopped along to music as he drove out of the garage, running the car through the dim evening streets just after a snow storm was a true blessing. He loved it. The car swept down the street, sending jets of snow flying as he whooped for joy. Unaware that he was being carefully watched, the large truck sitting in the shadowy alleyway ahead of him started its engine. He crested the hill, barrelling down it, feeling the rush of elation suddenly tu

Found the book on an ooooold hard drive. So will publish the rest of the book here over the next week or so. The book is complete so shouldn't be an issue.

Max’s Dacha Max looked up at the door as it creaked open on Jae wearing his coat and hat. He made to smile, but a distressed look on Jae’s face caused him to hesitate. “We need to talk,” Jae said as he entered the small wooden house closing the door behind him and doffing his coat. He walked towards the settee that he’d been resident on much of the day, and paused before he instead selected one of the arm chairs. He looked beaten, slumped like a marionette with all it’s str

I never realized people enjoyed this one. I have the rest of the book on a hard drive somewhere. I will dig it out and post the rest.

A High-Octane Thrill Ride Through the Streets of Moscow In the frozen, neon-drenched heart of Moscow, where the roar of engines echoes through the night and fortunes are won or lost on a single race, a new king of the asphalt is about to be crowned. Max must confront the shadows of his own past while preparing for a final, explosive showdown that will decide who truly rules the night. Strap in. Hold on. The race is just beginning.

Darien Taine has resurrected a forgotten hope,freedom to his people, and set his sights squarely on Earth. Shadows of the Empire's dark past reach out to ensnare that hope, a fallen General strives to restore the one symbol that would unite the Empire again. The architect of the fall of mankind weaves a dark net; to lure the Excalibur into his clutches as he brings an ancient superweapon to bear. And fate, wielded as a weapon by a man 300 years dead, is Taine’s last recourse

Trade-liner Protania The bursar didn't even look at their travel papers; he waved them past the security checks, completely ignoring them. A few disgruntled passengers stared after them, wondering how it was they got special treatment, but the fact they were wearing military uniforms, unfamiliar ones at that, probably gave them special privilege. The porter took their kit bags, guiding them through the massive ship towards their cabin, a small room tucked away from the rest of the passeng

Haligonian Nexus The great space station spread out like a city hanging in space. On the edge of a nebula, it was a critical refuelling station for ships not blessed with a ram scoop system. It was a city of lights, hanging on the edge of civilization, the jump gate nexus, a geodesic sphere hung behind it, the gateway to the farthest reaches of the universe. Humanity's greatest gift to the universe was the Amsus Hegemony's greatest prize. Traffic to and from the system was controlled t

Dragonfly was cruising through the deserted Lyle system; it was the second of three jumps that connected the Irulia system to the Haligonian Spacial Nexus. Darien kept his eyes on his instruments as he guided the blockade-runner along its course, the dark green shape of Kendrick's fighter flying in perfect formation with them about seven hundred feet away. Elias was using the time productively, finishing the last of the work he had started on Irulia. Closing panels and bringing consoles onlin