Topher Lydon

:: humble bow:: That's it, that's my book. Thank you for reading it. Thank you for leaving a review, or a recommendation. Thank you for pushing me to write it, and to write it better. You're all really awesome, and I am a bit emotional... so... thanks.

Liverpool Docks - Early Morning The biting cold of the Liverpool docks bit at the air, carrying the scent of salt and diesel. Inside a cavernous, dimly lit warehouse, a lone white van was tucked out of sight, nestled beside a towering shipping container. A group of North Korean Intelligence officers, their faces tight with focus, worked with frantic speed, their movements precise and economical. They were swiftly transferring a large, heavy crate from the back of the van into the cavernous

I love that you are taking me on your reading journey, it's amazingly cheerful for me

leave a review or recommendation on the story, and tell your friends. The book in it's entirety is out, you'll find a link to it later.

Eyrie - Æuum – Charlie Site Stoker sat on a small canvas chair beside a collapsible metal table, a cigarette dangling from his lips. The air was a crisp, biting alpine cold, but the sun, a pale disc in the sky, was trying its best to warm the exposed skin on his face. He leaned back, letting a plume of smoke curl lazily into the stillness, his gaze fixed on the stunning tapestry of treetops that stretched out beneath them. The world was quiet here, a

Everything

Defarge, by the way, is a nod to "A Tale of Two Cities"

Your feedback was invaluable. I owe you a coffee

Sorry, I took some of the advice you gave me, it's quite literally just two lines, and a scene at the end of this chapter generated from your feed back, and @drpaladin nothing else should have changed.

still two chapters yet.... :: grins ::

sorry was trying to take your advice and fix a few little things. Quite literally just this chapter. One line and one small scene

Thank you for daring me to do better

There, I fixed the bloody gun's bullet thing :: sticks out tongue::

RAF Boulmer The rotors of the Merlin helicopter from HMS Richmond began to slow, their immense thrum gradually fading as the aircraft settled onto the tarmac at RAF Boulmer. Several RAF crew immediately moved in, securing the machine, their movements efficient and practiced. From the side hatch, a Royal Navy Intelligence Lieutenant Commander was carefully helped down to the ground. Andrew, despite his rank, was visibly rattled, battered, and dishevelled, his uniform showing the recent ordea

I mean someone had to put Enrico's art out of our misery

My Wil, when we were both so young it is laughable to remember us back then... him a scrawny fellow amazing hair and harry potter glasses... me a hell of a lot thinner and arrogant as all hell... he used to hide inside my great coat with me, big old wool thing, while we waited in the snow for a bus that was taking it's sweet old time.... 95 bus East bound at 4am in Ottawa... to me it was always a fond and romantic memory, he always did it, just opened my coat, snuggled in and buttoned himself up to stay warm. Never asked, just did it. I think many of the Romantic memories I use in my writing are based off of him, I was chatting to him the other day... twenty something years after that snowy morning... and he hasn't changed. Loyal as anything, and still as presumptuous when it comes to things... He was very Stoker-esque. Just don't tell him that, he's far too smug to ever find out...

I think we all have different perceptions of what manifests as the devil in our lives, or demons. For some it's a hypercritical parent, for another I know he calls his Gollum. For some it's a reflection of themselves. I think when I was writing this, that the whole mirror to the soul aspect of that static stream is poignant.

OK so I may have gotten a little carried away with my bullet counting.. To be fair Templeman (like me) is quite old, we can chalk his mistaken count of bullets down to Senility, and the heat of the moment. and mine to... um... something with the something.... that may or may not be shaped like an "oops"

Do I have to write a Joey into the story? Y' know Stoker ain't one to share 'is toys, sorr

The devil, is the one that lurks in the back of your mind and whispers all your sins at 2 in the morning. Also book 2: The Watchers: Paradox Lost is at 5 chapters now, and climbing.

Hall of Mirrors - Æuum – Alpha Site A haunting melody, slow and melancholic, drew lazily through the vast hall of mirrors, reverberating not in Wojciech's ears, but in his very soul. It was a sound that pulled at him with a hazy, half-forgotten memory of somewhere else—a place he had been desperate to escape, yet could never fully shake. He blinked, his mind struggling to grasp the intricate notes of a solo violin that s

Dafuq will get his. As will Sinclair. The question is what will Enrico do next?

An I hope your happy, I have now spent three chapters this morning, writing about your under-over shotgun anachronism, in great detail, and now a defining Bootstrap Paradox in the narrative, so take that, Trope!