Topher Lydon
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Everything posted by Topher Lydon
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For that, Alvarez is going to have to teach them a lesson in manners.
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I like that Allie is deeply insecure beneath all of his lies and bravado and swagger. He desperately wants Devon to like him, not at all realizing that Dev already does. And Dev is worried that if he pushes, he'll push Allie away. Neither quite realizing they're stuck like glue.... and Fuzz is convinced they are both morons.
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baaaa Our arms dealer in charge is eyeing the future, the industrialization of war.
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They probably shouldn't be making accusations with someone who can swim three miles underwater Alvarez has no clue people think he's gay.
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The town of Lanternlight did not emerge from the frontier so much as it announced itself with a desperate, overzealous theatricality. As the thick, sucking mud of the open trail finally began to yield to a tightly packed gravel road, the bruised iron sky of the late afternoon was pierced by a startling, artificial glow. Heavy wires had been strung high across the wide, meticulously planned main avenue, and suspended from these wires were dozens of heavy glass lanterns. They swayed gently in the
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I don't think Reynard knows they are there so he is just issuing orders. Erik and Seb are camped right under their noses. To move in the dark, risks alerting the crusaders. So they have to wait and watch until the Crusaders move on.
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Arguably one of the most beautiful rivers in the world. Certainly one of the most significant to history
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The Arabian mares did not run; they flowed. Where the massive European destriers would have bludgeoned the earth with their iron-shod hooves, tearing up the sand in a brutal, exhausting display of pure kinetic force, the Bedouin horses seemed to skim over the surface of the wasteland. They were creatures forged by the very desert that sought to kill them. They were lighter, leaner, and possessed a bottomless, deep-chested endurance that allowed them to eat up the miles with a terrifying, r
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Oh man don't say that, his ego, as the ego of his decedent Enrico, is big enough.
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Now, Darien DOES recognize his son as his son and sends money home for his education. When Darien is elevated, his son is still recognized as his legitimate heir. Granny (Dowager Baroness the Lady Adele Haskal raises him just like she raised Darien)
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You are presuming that Darien and Atreus's mother were wed, they were not. ergo FitzDarien
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read Chapter 1.
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Most of my stories that I have written are pre-written, I have a rather large back library. When I release it's usually months of years after they were written. Like the Prologue, that's a few years old, whereas this chapter was written this morning. I do write and insert chapters, or modify them, but straight write to publish, this is not something I typically do. (The last time was the Ottawa Tales chapters)
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Thank you so much to the readers, reviewers and commenters. The people who engage with these stories make it worthwhile. You guys are amazing. Thank you.
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I wrote a murder mystery that was going to go into this slot, but I am not happy with it... and it's got to sit while I think on it. Where as a light Western Adventure is easier to write. I have a plot idea I am working on this morning, I have two interesting characters, a third arriving in the next chapter... and an antagonist... so it's a matter of stitching it together and seeing where they take me. I'd rather release something I know will work, than something I know is broken and can't figure out how to fix (yet) (One dimensional protagonist... when the little brother of a secondary character is more compelling than your protagonist, there's a problem)
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Distant cousin of Jack as well.
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I wrote this prologue a long, long time ago... never really had an idea of what to do with it. Then I wrote Chapter one this morning and found the story clicked. Seeing where it takes me. It's been a while since I have released a story with ZERO idea what's coming next.
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Welcome back to the west. Our intrepid heroes have met, the road ahead of them, and an understanding beginning. FUZZ approves, if just the new one will sit still and let her use him as a new throne!
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The heavy, iron-wrought latch of the barn door gave way with a shriek of rusted metal that seemed to split the frozen night perfectly in two. For a fraction of a second, the boy hung suspended in the threshold, framed against the suffocating, humid darkness of the barn’s interior, before he threw himself forward into the merciless void of the winter storm. The cold did not merely greet him; it assaulted him. It was a physical wall of sub-zero wind that slammed into his bare, bruised chest,
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