Whoot......

Just signed a contract with Silver Pub. for 'Moving On'

Unedited description: When his husband Darrin in murdered right in front of him and the killer vanishes into the darkness, Mitch Cavanaugh must learn to move on. As he tries to gather up the shattered pieces of his life, and the police search for the murderer, he’s approached by a stranger who claims to know why Darrin was killed. Then the man disappears.

Six months later, and with the police no closer to finding the murderer, Mitch suddenly finds he may now be the man’s next target. It will take the combined efforts of Mitch, the police and a new friend, Chad, to stop the killer before he strikes again.

Scriostóir - 5

A light rap on the door to the suite announced the arrival of room service. Cerdic smiled as he allowed the man, pushing a cart laden with food, to enter.

“Hamlin, it has been a while,” Cerdic said, clapping the young man on the shoulder.

“Indeed it has, sir,” Hamlin replied, he face lighting up with pleasure.

“Please call me Cerdic.”

“I—alright but it’ll seem strange.” He started setting the meal out on the table, then stood back at attention when he’d finished, a quirky grin on his face. “Will there be anything else?”

“Yes. Join me for supper. I need to know everything you’ve managed to find out. If staying is going to be a problem I shall call down and let them know that I ordered you to.”

Hamlin shook his head. “I’ve been assigned to you for the week, as per orders from the hotel’s higher-ups.”

“Then sit, damn it.” Cerdic sat himself, waiting for Hamlin and then filling two plates with food, sliding one to his underling. “Eat, and then we’ll talk.”

Eat they did, Cerdic passing on messages from the boys and telling Hamlin how they were faring. Hamlin was especially happy to know that Jakie was doing so well. He had been the one who had recruited the boy into the group. He’d found Jakie, half-starving on the streets, just two months before he’d been sent to London and had taken him under his wing like the younger brother he’d never had.

Once they were finished and coffee was poured, Hamlin filled Cerdic in on the information he’d gathered. When he’d wrapped up his report Cerdic nodded, reading over the papers in the file Hamlin had handed him.

“You have done an excellent job, young man. I knew I was correct, placing my faith in you.”

Hamlin thanked him before saying, “May I ask just what you’re going to do with all this information?”

Cerdic lifted one eyebrow as he studied him. Then, having made a decision, he asked in turn, “Given what you brought me, what would you think it would be used for?”

“Well,” Hamlin said slowly, “there is a royal wedding coming up. If something were to happen to disrupt that, and said something was caused by one of the persons on that list, all of whom will be in the city at that point,” he tapped on of the papers spread out on the table in front of them, “it would certainly increase tensions between the British and the home country of whichever person is involved.”

“A very logical conclusion.” Again Cerdic studied Hamlin before saying, “If, and it is only ‘if’ that was the reason I had you collect this information, how would you feel about it?”

Hamlin shrugged. “I’ve been with you long enough that I have no illusions about you. You are not some super spy trying to save the world. On the other hand, you’re not a terrorist in the usual sense of the word. Best guess, you like manipulating people so that they cause problems that increase local or world tensions. It’s almost as if you were trying to throw the world into turmoil, one country at a time.”

“That still begs the question of how you feel about it.”

Resting his elbows on the table, Hamlin looked at his mentor. “I have no reason to care what you do one way or the other. I’ve got no love for people in general. I was used and abused from day one by everyone around me. Until you found me I didn’t believe that anyone gave a damn about me or anyone else for that matter. In general, I know that’s the truth of the world. Kill or be killed, use or be used, rule or be ruled, every man for himself. Even you use, but at least what we, the boys and I, get in return makes it worth it; a home, three squares a day, friendship among us which none of us had before.”

Hamlin paused, chuckling low. “Sorry, didn’t mean to go off on a rant like that. Anyway, bottom line, if you want to try to set people on each other until the world explodes and countries wipe each other out, have at it. It’s no skin off my nose.”

Scriostóir - 4

Cerdic was quite relieved when the plane touched down on the tarmac at Heathrow Airport. He abhorred long flights even though he knew they were a necessary evil. There were times when he wondered why one of the benefits of being a Scriostóir hadn’t been the ability to teleport from place to place. The only time that perk was allowed was when traveling through the veil, going from one time to another, something he hadn’t had to do since the seventeen-hundreds when he’d been permanently assigned to what eventually would become the United States of America.

Unlike Caomhnóir, the Scriostóir were kept in one place once they had proven their worth. That way each one knew his or her territory and was able to respond at an instant’s notice when something occurred that they could use to their advantage. In Cerdic’s case, it was the US, primarily New York City with its international community. He was devoutly glad that he had not drawn Washington, DC. Having to deal with the politicians there would have driven him crazy, even though manipulating them was very easy, according to his colleague there.

Now, he was in London, or would be once he found a taxi to take him to the heart of the city and the Savoy, where he would be staying for the duration. The cabdriver, when Cerdic finally got one, was a taciturn man, much to Cerdic’s delight. He hated chatty cabbies; they distracted him from his contemplation of the drive into or through a city.

Upon his arrival at the Savoy, he was greeted warmly by the doorman then quite effusively by the woman at the check-in desk.

“Mr. Wyndham, it’s a pleasure to see you again,” she said. “Your usual suite has been prepared just as you like it. I’m afraid Minnie is no longer with us, but we have a new young man who took her place. I’m certain you will find he is very well trained and he will take care of all your needs.”

Cerdic chuckled, replying, “To anyone overhearing you, one would think you were setting me up with someone from an escort service, not one of your excellent room service persons.”

“Oh my, yes, I suppose it did sound like that. I’m so sorry.”

“It’s nothing to worry about. We know, and what others think is of small importance.”

After that, he finished with the business of signing in, paid her, and then with the bellhop in tow, went to his suite. It was just as the woman had promised, perfection with all as he expected. Once he had unpacked, he sat down in the wingchair in the living room and placed a call to room service to order a late supper. With that taken care of, he rose again, crossing to stand at the window and look out over the Thames. He was in his homeland now, and the only place forbidden to him was the town where he had died. That was the one law that both Caomhnóir and Scriostóir had in common. There was no return to the place of their demise. 

* * * * * * * * * * * *

A bit of promoting

'You Can't Change the Past - Phoenix Rising Book 3'

is now available from Silver Publishing.

Scriostóir - 3

The smile that crossed Cerdic’s lips was feral and triumphant as he watched the morning news a week after Jakie and Manny had turned over their spoils to him. Tensions between two warring countries had risen and death was in the wind. The only down-side to his morning was the news that one of his colleagues, a Scriostóir working as a terrorist half way across the world, had met his final demise at the hands of a Caomhnóir. But such was their world. He, himself, had dispatched several Caomhnóir in the past centuries, something he looked upon with pride.

Rising from his bed, Cerdic readied himself for the day. After he was finished he studied himself in the mirror. His dark blonde hair was swept back from his forehead and at the moment he was clean-shaven, his normal mustache and small beard sacrificed because they wouldn’t suit the role he was playing today.

When he arrived downstairs, he found the boys seated at the breakfast table.

Manny whistled in approval as he looked at his mentor. “You should do that more often, Mr. Wyndham. It’s a great look on you.”

“I’m glad you approve,” Cerdic replied, chuckling. “Alright, young men, I have a brief announcement. I shall be gone for a week or more. During that time Mr. Shadrick and Gebhard will be in full control of you and the house. I’ll leave your assignment list with Gebhard. Any slip-ups and you will face me when I return. Is that understood?” He looked at each boy in turn, receiving nods of acceptance from each one. “Very good. I know that you will make me proud.”

“Sir,” one of the middle boys said, raising his hand, “what if, well you know—“

“If you are careless and the police should catch you, you will be bailed out, brought back here, and summarily punished by Gebhard and then you’ll be under house arrest until I return. Therefore it would behoove you, all of you, to be extra careful. I will tell each and every one of you that I have the utmost faith in your abilities and I do not think that will happen. I would not have selected you otherwise.”

“Sir,” Jakie’s hand rose. When Cerdic nodded, the boy asked, “Will you call us?”

“Of course. Don’t I always? I’ll tell you all about London and what is going on with Hamlin.”

“Do you think he still remembers us? It’s been a year.”

Ruffling Jakie’s hair, Cerdic said, “You remember him. Why should he have forgotten you?”

Jakie shrugged. “I don’t know. I guess he wouldn’t.”

“Precisely. Now, all of you, finish your meal and get to work. Just because I’m not going to be here does not mean you may slack off of your chores until the last moment.”

“Yes, Sir,” the boys all chimed back in unison.

Scriostóir - 2

Cerdic looked at the boys as they lined up in front of him, each one wondering who was in for it this time. He moved his eyes slowly down the row, taking in the six faces one by one. At fourteen, Jakie was the youngest of the group and the slickest when it came to lifting something from a mark. Manny was the oldest at eighteen. His specialty was getting in and out of places with no one being any the wiser. The other four ran the gamut when it came to their jobs, but each was a specialist in his own area.

Cerdic had collected them one by one off the streets of the city, offering them a place to live, three squares a day, and the security of knowing that if they did as he ordered they’d be safe from the human predators that targeted the young and homeless.

He didn’t do this out of the kindness of his heart. Over the last thirteen centuries he had honed his skills and learned through trial and error how best to do what he had to, to please his masters and remain on this side of the veil.

Finally, he pointed to Jakie. “In my office, now. The rest of you, eat and then get on to your homework. I expect to hear from Mr. Shadrick that you’ve completed his assignments perfectly.”

The rest of the boys heaved quiet sighs of relief as they watched Jakie with pity when he marched slowly out of the room. Noting that, Cerdic smiled to himself. The boys were a good team, made better by the fact that they really did care about each other. He was quite certain they’d be relieved when Jakie returned to tell them he’d only gotten a reprimand and nothing more.

“So,” Cerdic said sternly as he walked into the office to find Jakie standing at attention in the center of the room, “exactly what happened?”

“I was good, I got what you wanted. The chump didn’t even know. But there was this dude,” Jakie looked down at the carpet. “I shoulda been paying more attention.”

“Indeed you should have. I’m very disappointed in you. Did this man see your face?”

Jakie shook his head hard. “No, Mr. Wyndham. Least I don’t think so. He shouted and I took off. The cop, well he was at the hotdog cart on the corner so I’m real sure he didn’t either.”

Crossing to his desk, Cerdic picked up the wallet that Jakie had lifted along with a set of keys. Flipping the wallet open, Cerdic rifled through it, smiling when he saw it contained what he’d thought it would. Then he turned back to Jakie.

“You will spend two hours in the gym with Gebhard. I’ll let him know that he’s to work you until you drop. After he’s finished with you, you’ll do your homework. Understood?”

Jakie nodded. “Yes sir, Mr. Wyndham.”

“Very good. Now go eat supper before there’s nothing left.” Cerdic ruffled his hair. “You screwed up, but you did well despite that.”

“Thank you, sir.”

Cerdic watched Jakie leave, congratulating himself on having handled the boy perfectly. Jakie had expected much worse. Now he would be even more cautious on the job, and feel an even deeper need to keep doing his best to please the man who held his fate in his hands.

There was a time, in the not too distant past, when Jakie’s screw-up would have earned him a beating. But in these modern times Cerdic had learned to temper the impulse to administer a severe thrashing when a boy blew a job, or came close to it. The authorities in this day and age took a dim view of corporal punishment unless they were the ones administering it. And, since he had civilians working with Jakie and the others, to wit Mr. Shadrick, their tutor, he couldn’t take the chance that one of them would decide to report any suspicious bruising to some agency such as Child Services.

He’d often thought that was part of the reason it was so easy these days to corrupt the populace in general. They needed outlets for their innate viciousness and depravity. Outlets that were being kept from them by governments and religious organizations who felt it was their duty to legislate morality.

At least he, and others like him, were doing their parts to bring down those entities and thus, in the end, humanity itself. His only regret was that it was taking so long, thousands upon thousands of years. If it weren’t for the do-gooder Caomhnóir who were trying to redeem themselves by working for the very superiors they should despise—He shook his head. That mystified him and always would. But, he figured, that was the way of the world.

For now, he had to do something interesting with the information he’d gotten from the wallet Jakie had lifted and that in the folder Manny had so conveniently found in a foreign dignitary’s hotel room.  Crossing to his rack of music, he thumbed through the CDs, finally settling on Iced Earth’s ‘The Crucible of Man’. That should put him in the proper mood.

Smiling, he set to work.