Topher Lydon

Riley deserved to find some happiness with a person that was his, not some arrogant dick that dumped him and ran off. Screw Kier.

I love you guys, thanks for reading these two. I really enjoyed writing the adventures of the Harding's. I am thinking of writing some more in the genre, just trying to get through a Sci-fi kick at the moment. I am contemplating hitting one of the under utilized Western Genre's here... just to try something.

Chapter Sixteen: The Architecture of Survival The siren grew from a distant wail to a pulsing, urgent scream that seemed to pierce the grey fabric of the sky. Riley held Ben against his chest, feeling the slow, deliberate rise and fall of his breathing, each exhale a small victory over the darkness that wanted to claim him. The rain had not stopped. It never stopped in this part of the world, Riley thought. It just waited, patient and indifferent, for you to forget your umbrella s

not sure if that's drool slobber or something stickier

It might end up in the sock he keeps cuddling in his sleep

and a sock fetish.

Well he does have milking duty to attend to, thanks to Mickey.

Chapter Five: The Bounty Hunter's Guide to Forced Family Therapy The bounty hunter boarded the Vega Vixen at 0347 ship time, which was rude, because Mickey was finally having a good dream for once. In the dream, he was on a tropical beach, with Isaiah dressed like that good little missionary boy with the tie and the badge, and no trousers. It was a nice dream. The first thing Mickey knew about the intrusion was a hand over his mouth and a voice in his ear. "Don't scream. Y

Cargo pods, aftermarket, this is Military Surplus being repurposed. It was off of a design concept done for me DECADES ago... I might have been digging through my archives and come across it and figured why not mock it up.

Amsus Raptor, cargo variant.

Digital cookie for the first person who works out what this is: *NOTE: Cookies may or may not be a lie... or eaten by Mickey before delivery*

Contrary to appearances, it is a long process. I tend to write in 1-2000 word bursts. A scene or two, a chapter usually sits till I expand upon it. You might notice my chapter formula is 2-3 scenes some of these scenes are written days apart. Sometimes, like yesterday's chapter, Scenes were written months apart and are stitched together. It's rare that I write one whole chapter in a single sitting. This one was written yesterday morning, the confrontation scene... I wrote the fight with Riley and Lee this morning at about 3am. i've always written in this fashion, stitching scenes together. Back in the old days, I had a notebook on my desk with a list of scenes I needed to write for the Falcon Banner books, I used to cross them out when I got done with them. HAHA you might notice sometimes my text formatting changes mid chapter. That's usually because I am writing other things or formatting books for ePub and my word processor is set for that... so when I do my scenes I don't always notice... I think I am alternating usually between Ciabiri (spelling?) 11pt font and Times New Roman in 12pt font. Also if you see bold words, that's usually the AI editor substituting words I have over used (a bad habit of mine). Occasionally it inserts random words as well trying to be helpful. Mickey, for example. To keep his cadence and speech patterns I told the AI to edit to keep it consistent with Mickey Malcovich and the mistake I made was Mickey and Mickey, it got confused and edited all of Mickey Ryder's last name references into the text to the tv character's last name... Idiot machine! I hate using it, but I would never find an editor that can keep up with me. Martin (an oooooold member of GA) used to keep up, but he's off running Birmingham city now. Which reminds me, I should meet him for coffee this Friday. I am procrastinating... I have too much to do, and I always do this when that happens. So yeah, that's a peek behind my curtain.

this is literally where I am right now in my day's work:

Mine all blur together. My curtains are drawn, and I have blackout ones... which I need to open soon (I use them as a thermal barrier in Winter so no light) I live in the darkness and rather soft lamps... which does my eyesight no good at all

I have no idea, I have not written the next chapter yet. That's a this afternoon and more coffee trick. I am doing a Vega Vixen thing today, and preparing the second of the Wylan Silver Boar for epub ahead of it's release (This slot will be The Holy Lance of Antioch starting on Thursday)

I have to be good, I got into trouble with Myr for being annoying with my prologue formatting, so have to behave myself.

good morning isn't it Tuesday?

Or security on the dock coming to investigate why the pilot ship just took off, and why an Audi blew through the gates doing 90.

There's a new monster who has learned from his master, and his master's master.

Morning, a showdown in the rain. We are nearing the end of this one. oh and:

The Kill Box The road unfurled north like a scar. Grey tarmac bleeding into grey sky, the relentless soaking drizzle that didn't fall so much as simply exist in the air, coating everything in a film of cold despair. The Audi A8 ate the miles with its usual predatory silence, but the atmosphere inside the cabin was different. Tighter. Charged with the static of approaching thunder. Riley sat in the passenger seat, his fingers tracing the edge of the dossier open on his lap.

Isaiah might be fond of toes.

there's a reason you're one of my favourite readers