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Sequels and a snippet

adjustment2I have a love/hate relationship with my muse. From what I can tell, I’m not unique in that. Most writers seem to feel the same way. In my case, it’s because I love to write but I hate when it comes time to writing sequels. That’s the situation I find myself in right now. I know the plot. I can see it in my head. I’ve been living with it for two months now. But getting it from my brain to the page has been next to impossible. That’s the really frustrating thing. As a result, I begged — well, browbeat might be more accurate — Sarah into reading the first scene of Duty from Ashes, the sequel to Vengeance from Ashes (Honor and Duty Book 1). She did and then she told me to quit dithering — yes, I cleaned it up some. She was a bit more, um, direct than that — and finish writing the book. Since I always do what my mentor tells me, I’m going to try to do just that. In the meantime, here’s the opening scene from Duty from Ashes, book two in the Honor and Duty Series.

 *     *     *

Smoke filled the air and the ground seemed to shake beneath her boots as another explosion sounded. It was close this time. Too close. Cursing, she ducked behind the makeshift barricade she and her team had erected outside the school and tried to catch her breath. As she did, the tell-tales from her battle armor warned that her heart was racing and her breathing was labored, not that she needed the onboard computer to confirm what she already knew. This was her worst nightmare come to life and, just like the last time, there had been no way to avoid it.

But she’d be damned if it ended the same way as before.

Not this time.

Carefully, she edged forward until she could see around the edge of the barricade. As she did, dirt and rock kicked up just inches from where she knelt as yet another round of enemy fire filled the air. Even as her team returned fire, she scanned the area, flipping through the various screens of her HUD. Then her lips pulled back into an almost feral smile.

There!

Finally, she’d located the last of the areas where the enemy had dug in. Now it was her turn to show them just how foolish they’d been to think they could get the drop on her and her team.

“Boomer, two o’clock. The culvert near the edge of the first building.” Once again, she cycled through the various filters on her HUD, taking careful note of what each told her. “Scans show six there. Looks like one SAM and three unknown heavy weapons. We’ll give you cover fire so your team and move into position. Hold your fire until I give the order. We need to take those guns out before they decide to turn their attention to the school.”

“Roger that, Angel.”

“Hound, second target’s yours. Same building. Four stories up. Third window from the corner. I spotted at least one sniper.” Once again, she cycled through her filters, scanning the building. As much as she’d like to just level the building and be done with it, she couldn’t. Not if there were civilians inside. “I’m not picking up any other life signs in that area, but that doesn’t mean they don’t have mechs of some sort up there. So don’t worry about being too gentle with your shot. Just remember your target zone.” She waited for his response, knowing he was calculating the best way to carry out her orders.

“Got it, Angel. I’ll be ready on your order.”

Her heart beat a little slower. So far, so good. Her team still had a chance to get out of this alive and, with a little luck, they’d manage to save those civilians sheltering in the school as well.

Knowing their next move could mean victory or defeat, she called up the last data they’d received on the enemy’s movements. As she studied it, her mind did the one thing she’d been fighting to avoid since the battle began. It went back to that terrible day more than two years ago. She’d been in this exact location, fighting this same battle. Only then she’d been given compromised intelligence. As a result, she and her squad, a different one from this time, had walked straight into a trap. So many had died. She and the six who had managed to make it back to the shuttle for extraction had been lucky to get out of there alive. At least that’s what she’d told herself. Of course, that had been before they were arrested, brought up on bogus charges, court martialed and sent to the Tarsus military prison.

Damn it! She couldn’t think about that. She couldn’t let the past distract her from what was happening right now. Not if she wanted her team to survive.

“We’re almost in position, Angel,” a voice reported over her comm a few moments later. Master Sergeant Kevin “Loco” Talbot. Another asset, an invaluable one, and one she hadn’t had on that previous mission.

“Roger that, Loco. Let me know when you are.”

She paused, waiting to hear from the final team she’d sent out. As the seconds drew out into minutes that seemed like hours, her concern grew. She’d been forced to split her forces before with disastrous results. Was history repeating itself?

She licked her lips and fought the urge to message the last team. It was difficult, but she didn’t. Instead, she reminded herself that they needed to move slowly and carefully to avoid detection. At least she hadn’t heard anything from the direction they’d taken that might indicate they’d been discovered. Surely that had to be a good sign.

Stop it!

She closed her eyes and breathed deeply. Her emotions and doubts were running too high. She had to get them under control. This was her command, her mission. If she couldn’t hold it together, they would fail. But she couldn’t think about that. She couldn’t let herself be distracted by the dead, hers and the civilian lives that had been lost in that previous battle. This wasn’t the time to let distractions in.

Finally, just as she was about to give up and demand an update, her comm came to life.

“We’re in position, Angel. We have four bogies ready and we’re ready to paint them,” Captain Lucinda Ortega reported.

“Hold position, Sorceress. I say again, hold position until we confirm air support.”

“Roger that, Angel.”

“Eagle, are you ready to paint your target?”

“Eagle is ready, Angel,” the squad’s sniper replied.

“Alpha Team, prepare to lay down cover fire. Boomer, the moment we do, you and your team haul ass and take out those heavy guns and that SAM.”

“Roger that, Angel. Beta Team is ready.”

She nodded, not that the demolitions expert could see her, and drew a deep, steadying breath. A quick check of her battle rifle and she was ready. It was now or never. With a glance at the four Marines crouching behind the barricade with her, she snugged the butt of the rifle against her shoulder.

“Now!”

She leaned around the corner of the barricade and opened fire. Instantly, the sounds of weapons – battle rifles, railguns and more – filled the air. Three of the four teams laid down heavy fire to cover the fourth team as it moved into position. On her HUD, three small green lights moved quickly toward the target zone. So far, so good.

“Almost there,” Boomer’s voice said in her ear.

“Keep it up, Devil Dogs. Don’t give those bastards time to breathe, much less regroup.”

“Fire in the hole!”

Boomer’s shout was the only warning they’d get. Instantly, she set her visor to block the flash from the explosion even as she kept firing. At least this time when the ground shook, it would be working for them instead of against them.

“Keep firing!” she ordered. “Eagle, Sorceress, stand ready. I repeat, stand ready. Paint the targets on my signal. Once the air strike begins, we move in.”

Without waiting for the teams to respond, she activated her ‘link once again. “Angel to Kali, we are a go for the airstrike. I repeat, we are a go for the airstrike.”

She waited, scanning the battlefield in front of her for any movement. Smoke and dust from the explosion filled the air. From the distance, she could hear the enemy. Some called for help. Some, those caught in the blast and not lucky enough to be granted a quick death, cried out for their mothers. A small part of her felt sorry for them. But another part, the soldier in her, knew it was either them or her and she much preferred living.

As she knelt there, ready to swing her rifle toward anyone who came her way, she imagined each member of her team wanting to look skyward, but keeping their eyes on the enemy locations, as they waited for the air support to come.

Air support that hadn’t come that first time. Would it now?

“Angel, this is Kali. We are on approach. Paint the target. I say again, paint the target.”

The voice coming over the battle-net was like an answer to her prayers. She relayed the message to the rest of her squad. As she did, she inched further around the edge of the barricade. Once in position, she raised one gloved fist, knowing the others were watching for her signal. Then she waited, knowing any number of things could still go horribly wrong and praying that they didn’t.

Moments later, the sounds of the fighter wing racing in their direction filled the air. The target, six heavy ground transports that had been moving closer and closer to the Devil Dogs exploded into a wall of flames as the fighters dropped their payloads. Instinct and training had the Marines diving for cover, any cover, as shrapnel from the transports flew through the air. Screams from the enemy soldiers unlucky enough to be caught in the open followed. Then, before the screams died out, she gave the order to move in.

“Take out those snipers!” she yelled as she sprinted across the clearing in the direction of the school.

Damn it, this time she would save those huddling inside.

Hound, moving at a speed no human could without the assistance of powered battle armor, leapt from where he’d been taking cover. The moment he landed, he turned and leveled the grenade launcher that was currently his armor’s primary weapon at the target. The building she’d identified for him a few minutes earlier was soon missing part of its far side. Smoke billowed from the area where the sniper had been holed up. Someone would need a new office or apartment when this was all over. But, hopefully, they’d survived the fight and would be able to return home soon. Even as the thought came, she knew the truth could be far different. War was never clean, no matter what the politicians wanted. There was always the possibility of collateral damage, especially when the enemy had no compunctions about hiding behind a shield of innocents.

Ahead and to her left, a head popped up from the culvert. A split second later, it exploded. She smiled slightly as Eagle gave a war cry that almost split her skull. She’d remind him later about how that sort of thing sounded through the battle-net. Not that she blamed him. They’d spent too much time hunkered down behind makeshift barricades and hiding in the shadows. It felt good to finally be on the move again. Now it was time to make the enemy pay for all they’d done.

“Angel, to your right!”

Loco’s warning came at almost the same moment that her armor’s sensors warned her of someone or something suddenly appearing and moving in her direction. She turned, bringing her combat rifle to bear. Her finger slipped behind the trigger guard and she felt her combat implants coming to life as she focused on the figure running hell bent for leather in her direction.

“Hold your fire!”

Without waiting for confirmation, she broke into a sprint, racing toward the small figure. The child couldn’t be more than five or six. Where he had been hiding during the fighting she didn’t know and, just then, she didn’t care. Not when her armor’s onboard computer was telling her that several of the enemy were bearing down on them.

She had to get to t child before he was hurt – or worse.

Without conscious thought, she switched out her battle rifle for her sidearm. Using the targeting system of her HUD, she laid down fire in the direction of the nearest enemy soldier. A scream of pain followed. Good. One down but who knew how many more to come.

Three more steps and she scooped the child up in her arms. He cried out as an enemy trooper appeared to the right and opened fire. Reacting on instinct, Angel shifted the child so he was shielded by her armor before returning fire. Then she pivoted, running in the direction of Loco and the rest of his team. They were laying down cover fire, forcing the enemy troopers to duck back down into the trench. At the same time, Sorceress was calling in air support. But that was all in the background. Angel was focused on the child in her arms and getting him to safety.

“Down!”

Loco’s tone of voice was all the warning she needed. She dropped, sliding feet first toward the barricade. At the same time, Loco stepped forward, Tank and Hound on either side of him, and all hell seemed to break loose. As they opened fire with everything they had, so did the rest of the squad. If that wasn’t enough, three Sabres, the newest and most deadly fighters the Fuerconese Navy had in operation, screamed overhead and opened fire on the culvert.

The ground shook again and another explosion – no, a series of explosions – deafened them. Then there was silence, the kind of silence that really wasn’t. Her pulse pounded and her breathing was ragged. The crackling of fire mixed with the heavy smoke that filled the air. She heard someone, one of her people, offering up a quick prayer of thanks. Someone else uttered a curse. For once, she agreed with both sentiments. Then she heard the boy whimper. Much as she wanted to reassure him, she couldn’t. Not yet. She had to make sure the area was secure first.

Still cradling the child in her arms, Angel twisted around so she could look in the direction of the culvert. Nothing moved except for the smoke rising from it. Without warning, the silence was broken by a single shot to her left. Instantly, half a dozen battle rifles responded. Then nothing.

Barely daring to hope that it was over, she went to active scans. For several long moments, she studied the readouts on her HUD. The locations they had tagged as being held by the enemy were either showing red, indicating they were too hot for anyone – even armored – to survive or there were the tell tales of the dead and dying. Could it finally be over?

“Sound off!” she ordered as she carefully climbed to her feet.

As she did, the medic assigned to her squad hurried forward to take the child from her. Except the child had other ideas. He wrapped his arms and legs more firmly around her and burrowed in. with a jerk of her head, she motioned the medic off. She could spare the child a moment as she caught her breath and her people reported in.

One by one, each member of her team sounded off. A few sounded the worse for wear but she’d lost no one that day. Thank God. The nightmare hadn’t replayed in all its horror. It had come close, though, and she wanted to know why.

Relieved, she looked down into the child’s face and the world came to a crashing halt. No! He couldn’t be there. Damn it, he couldn’t be there. As bad as that time had been, that would have made it worse, so much worse.

“End sim!” she ordered, ripping off her combat helmet. “I said to end the damned sim!”

*     *     *

Needless to say, this is a rough draft, so there may be changes between this and the final version. Now, to get back to work before Sarah puts on her pointy boots and comes after me for not minding her.   😉

 

 

19 Comments
  1. My Muse is bad about series. He, she or it is always happy to revisit old friends. But since their problem was solved in the last book, why don’t we just play around and have fun. I have to get mean and throw a wrench in the works, on a regular basis.

    Maybe I should write the other sort of problem, the kind that takes several books to solve . . .

    July 1, 2014
    • Heh. I thought (foolish author), that I was done with the Colplatschki series with the WIP, aside from a quick short story. Um, something is nagging me, flittering around the edges of my mind, that Margaret von Tirol, along with two of the more curious saints from Dark Age Alsace, would make an interesting story about the founding of Sarmas. Meanwhile, the characters for the WWI alt-history have started having bits of dialog in my head and thus far only one of the rat-b@stards has a name yet. And they are in the middle of the third chapter! Arrrrrrrrrrrrr *inhale* rrrrrrrrggghhhhhhhh!

      July 1, 2014
      • Pardon me while I laugh. I am sooooo glad someone else has characters who refuse to tell you their names right up front. But I know what you mean about new stories poking their heads up and demanding your attention. I have that going on right now with another of my series. It isn’t happy that I’ve told it to sit in the corner and wait its turn.

        July 1, 2014
        • The main character of my story submission to the Baen contest did that. I had the supporting cast named, persona-ed up, and everything. Main character? “It’s not important, you have the important parts of me you need… just write the tale.” Then I got to the scene where I did need to have his name and the internal character voice went “Hmm, you have a bit of a problem, don’t you?”

          (Why no, I’m not crazy, the voices in my head are characters for stories…)

          July 1, 2014
          • I actually stripped my evil wizard of his name in my entry. It seemed superfluous and distracting.

            July 2, 2014
    • My problem with this book is I have two, maybe three, levels of problems that needs to be dealt with. Of course, there is also another book that comes after this, so I can’t solve all the problems this time. That makes it imperative that I choose the right ones to deal with, while pushing the action and character development. Oh, and then there’s the prequel a certain person — Jason — demanded I write. Sigh.

      July 1, 2014
  2. I’ve read that many readers won’t take the chance on the first book in a series until they can see all its volumes are published.

    If true, beat that muse of yours into submission 😉

    July 1, 2014
    • There are some who feel that way. Fortunately, at least for this first book, there have been enough who have bought it to convince me to keep working on the second book. It’s hard to do the follow up books when the first doesn’t start off with good sales. I’ve learned some books take time to build up steam, but seeing good numbers (relatively speaking) right off the bat really helps.

      July 1, 2014
  3. My Muse is off sulking. Kiwi is settling down to the million mark as gently as a SpaceX Falcon 9. If something doesn’t happen soon, I’m going to punt it off to the Erotica category again.

    My biggest fear is that my Baen Entry didn’t get through. I wish they sent confirmation messages that everything arrived and decoded fine.

    July 1, 2014
    • Quit checking your rankings. That is the first thing I’ll tell you. The second is not to pay too much attention to your reviews. In other words, put butt in chair and tell your muse to either cooperate or you will start writing slashfic or simple fanfic. 😉

      July 1, 2014
      • Laura M #

        I used to threaten my muse with the website “Write or Die.” After the first few times of watching words vanish she got cracking. The site is kind of awesome and might still be free.

        July 1, 2014
      • Actually, my reviews are pretty good. And the ratio of sales to reviews is amazing, 1 for every 5. Only five reviews though (do the math), and no sales since May. As a result, I don’t appear in the “Also Boughts” of all the books in my “Also Boughts” which means nothing is leading back to me, and I’m sinking without a ripple.

        I guess I’m just having a crisis of Confidence. I need to hear that I don’t suck at this. Which is hard to determine when nobody will read me to find out (And I’m not talking about just my book on Amazon, I have Dozens of stories and chapters up for free on DeviantArt.)

        July 2, 2014
        • We all suffer from that from time to time. My best advice is to simply get more of your work out there and to do at least a modicum of promotion on FB, on the Saturday promo posts over at According to Hoyt and the Book Plug Fridays. One other thing I have found is that once I admitting to the pen names, my sales across the board went up. Folks have learned that they can expect a certain type of book depending on the pen name. Shrug.

          July 2, 2014
          • I have ONE FB follower, and I see him at work. I got on the Book Plug Friday post once, with no attributable effect, and I’ve promoted it on my blogs and the two art sites where I have account. (DeviantArt is my biggest audience). And lord knows I’ve mentioned it here ad nauseum.

            Yeah, I’ve got to get more out. Heinous overtime at work has cramped my writing. The previous short stalled out. The latest thing I wrote was for the Baen contest, so that won’t be freed up until the winners are announced.

            My friend John has had good luck, I think, with Project Wonderful ads. I’ll have to touch base with him.

            But I do need to have more out. It just helps when people say that because they’ve read and liked what I’ve done so far.

            July 2, 2014
    • Laura M #

      Also, if anyone is doing NaNo camp this month and wants a writing buddy, I’m LauraMSPS.

      July 1, 2014
      • I need to, but don’t know if I’m going to actually do it.

        July 2, 2014
  4. robfornow #

    Hey- you got the other fifteen hundred in, on time. Good for you. Baen didn’t acknowledge my submission either so, it probably made it. Threaten to send the old gal on a three week vacation to MUSE, Oklahoma, population five if she don’t get her act together. They’re good people there and won’t put up with sulking.

    July 1, 2014
    • Of course, then you might just discover that she likes it in Muse and looks forward to going into Antlers or Ardmore if she wants to visit the “big city”. 😉

      July 2, 2014
      • robfornow #

        True; but, McAlester is just a few miles away.and there’s always Tulsa. We just don’t know if Tulsa is really in Oklahoma.

        July 2, 2014

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