First Time Blog Hosting

atkinsons admin largeToday is my first time as part of a blog host for Faebooks. The owner is doing a favor for a friend of hers in asking some fellow bloggers to mention his book. It’s free for the next few days on Amazon US & UK. I’ll get myself a copy and give it a read. Maybe you guys will too. The links are after the blurbs.

Book Info:
Title: Atkinson’s Administration (Book 1 in series)
Author: John Paul Bernet (aka JP Bernett)
Page count: 214
Published: March 7th 2012
The reaper has walked among us ever since time began. Our meaning of  time is different; three score years and ten give or take the over or  under run of sand in the reapers time piece. That is what the ancient  philosophers would have us believe.
But now the bells are chiming us  into the 21st century and there is a problem. The real reaper system has had a spanner thrown into its works; the repercussions of this could  and will end the world as we know it. Can mortals battle with ancient  Gods or is this the apocalypse that revelations predicted.

“Have  you ever wondered what that feeling is when you are falling in your  sleep and you wake just before you hit the ground? Well, that is me  twanging the cord that one day I will cut in my realm and you will die  in yours”.

Author Link:
Fae Books

A new type of Raw Into the Realm post

I’m including links to music that I feel would enhance the reading of the selections. The links will open in new windows, so while the music plays, read the selection. I hope this experiment does make it better. Let me know in the comments below?


The punches of the Chronomancer rained down on Carter. He paid them no heed, too numb by what he’d done. A distinct crack as his jaw gave way under the other man’s heavy hits. Her screams, and begging echoed through his mind. Though she pleaded with him to stop, he did not. He’d given into his baser urges like an animal. He deserved this. Everything. His eyes gushed water when his nose was broken.
Sera ran over and grabbed Robilar’s arm. “Stop hitting him!” He growled and shook her off. “I mean it, he’s not responsible for what happened to Dearbhaile! Look at him!”
“He makes me fucking sick. To think I looked up to the bastard.” He whirled on the smaller woman. “And how dare you try to defend him! I caught him!”
“Would the Carter Blake you know rape his beloved? Would he just stand there and take the beating you’re giving him?”
Both men turned to look at her. “Speak sense, girl,” the Chronomancer growled.
“Look, I don’t know my brother as well as you do, Robilar, but I do know he’s not the type to rape.”
“There’s the slight problem of I caught him in the fucking act!”
“Maybe he wasn’t in control,” she said.
“Stop trying to defend him, Sera! His actions are inexcusable and indefensible.”
“What if Drago used a spell to control his body and mind? Will you condemn Carter for what is entirely plausible?”
“Check,” Carter mumbled. The pain of the shattered jaw was excruciating, but he could deal with it.
Robilar growled, not willing to give them the satisfaction of trying to excuse the bastard, yet there was a small feeling wiggling at the back of his mind. ‘What if she’s right?’
“I’ll call Dearbhaile.” A big hand on her shoulder stopped Sera. She glanced up to her big brother shaking his head. “No? I don’t know of anyone else who has the kind of power to tell.” Carter slapped Robilar’s chest, driving him back a couple of steps. “Robilar? Do you know of someone?”
He rubbed his sore sternum. ‘Shit. I forgot how strong the Walker really is. Sera wasn’t kidding about him allowing me to hit him. That slap felt like he was smacking the back of my ribs from the inside. Ow.’
“Yeah,” he croaked.


Robilar concentrated, and pulled on the time stream. A sparkling orange portal appeared. He reached into it and, with a mighty heave, withdrew a wizened Snebbli. He collapsed against the stone wall, breathing hard. The Snebbli glared up at the Chronomancer.
“What do you want, Time Mage?” he squeaked. He could only point at Sera and Carter. The Snebbli’s eyes widened when he saw the Walker of World’s, and he knelt.
“We need something done for us,” Sera said.
He shook his head. “I cannot. If I do it, bad things wil-”
Carter yanked him up by the collar and held him there. “Do it.”
The little being blanched, then nodded his head. Carter set him gently on the floor. Eyes closed, he touched the big human’s hand. A crackle of electricity echoed through the room. He slowly looked up at the Walker. Carter’s insides turned to ice. His heart pounded in his ears. His body shook. The elderly wizard nodded. “He used the Fist of Ra.”


Sera held her breath, bracing for the explosion. Her hands felt clammy. The room tilted crazily as she trembled. ‘I should get out of here before he loses control. Move, feet!’ Sweat broke out on her brow as she watched her brother.
His veins popped out in his neck. His throat worked, trying to release the feelings building within him. His big hands bunched to fists, knuckles crackling and veins popping out. Carter’s chest heaved like bellows building a fire. He shook his head side-to-side. His eyes showed the sclera clearly before they turned a glowing electric blue and he bellowed, a primal scream. With an explosion that knocked dust from the ceiling, he vanished. Goosebumps raced over her body.
Dearbhaile ran in. “Do nae tell Carter what happened,” she yelled.
“Too late,” said Robilar. “He’s gone.”
“Oh, shit.”

Into the Realm: the Chronicles of Carter Blake, Book I (raw update)

I blinked and a man dressed in green and dark brown leather armor stood before me. He had a lean and muscular build to him. Sable hair hung to his shoulders. A sword with a blue crystalline blade was held in his right hand. He looked over his shoulder at me. Coffee colored eyes sparkled with mischievous humor. The Lyxo that had been about to kill me drew up in surprise. Three heads sniffed the air, then with swung a massive paw at the newcomer. Without taking his eyes from me, he casually cut off the incoming limb. The demon bellowed in pain, then swiped at the mystery man again.

He turned to the attack, leaped on to the arm, raced up and stabbed the demon’s dragon throat. He then flipped through the air sliced the lion muzzle off, and then stabbed the goat between the eyes. As the Lyxo collapsed, he pulled the blade free, ran along it’s chest and flung himself through the air at the Lyxo that had Adora on the defensive.

Her flanged mace glowed with an eldritch violet light. Each time it collided with the tiger paw of her demon, black sparks leaped into the air. The three headed demon Lady Orwen battled had heads like a bull, the torso of a tiger, and the lower body of a goat. It threw its fists at her just as the man in leather arrived. As she blocked the strikes, he grabbed the outer horn of the right bull head, twisted it downward, flipped under it and snapped the neck. Continuing his motion, the man stabbed the center bull head between the horns, pulled the blade free, and flipped over to the last one, stabbing it between the horns as well. The man gracefully hit the ground in a tuck and roll.

His flashy appearance caught the attention of one of the Lyxos. The demon tried to stomp the man with its goat-hooved frog leg. He rolled under the assault, came to his feet and sliced the four legs off with a quick figure eight flourish. The ground shuddered under the impact of the demon’s collapse.

A rain of arrows came his way. My jaw dropped when I saw him either cut the arrows down, block them with his sword, or dance passed. He caught one and threw it back on almost the same trajectory. ‘Why the hell did he do that? There’s no way it- Oh.’ The arrow accelerated to the point of invisibility. Several demons in a row blew apart in chunks and sprays of blood.

An enormous bipedal beetle with a muscular brown body covered by a shiny, green-black carapace erupted from the ground. Its eyes were silver and bulbous, and its vertically-aligned teeth gleamed with a greenish-black saliva. Keratin  spikes grew around the monster’s legs and shoulders, and its forearms were covered by two-foot-long curved blades. With the exception of its coloration, it was identical to the bug I fought in the arena. It leaped for me. Without thinking, I brought by foot up. The bug’s jump carried it face first into the bottom of my foot. As I went back from the force, it crashed to the ground.

As I regained my balance, the beetle-creature sprang to its feet. I cocked my sword over my shoulder like it was a baseball bat.

“Azerith, metrenome Zinthos!”

I was splattered with silvery ichor as I registered Lady Orwen’s voice. The beetle, its skull crush by a powerful blow from behind, toppled forward. I wiped the sticky, yet sweet-smelling fluid from my face and peered at the princess. “Did you really have to splatter the contents of its cranium on my face?”

She shrugged, and wiped blood and grime from her cheek. “You were just standing there.” I grabbed her arm, yanked her against me and whipped my sword up. She planted her hands on my chest and pushed away. “Carter, you’re attached.” I rolled my eyes down to her, then back up. She turned and saw an ape-like demon with yellow horns curving from where its eyes would be impaled on my weapon.

“You’re welcome.” I pulled my sword from the fiend’s chest while she stepped away from me. I drew the back of the sword along the crook of my elbow, removing majority of the ichor that had collected on it, flipped it through a series of show-offy motions, then sheathed it.

She quirked her grimy eyebrows at me. “Was that necessary?”

“Not at all. But it looked awesome, didn’t it?” That earned me a tired sounding chuckle. I looked around. The battle was winding down. The man in leather finished off the last Lyxo and sheathed his sword after a similar flourish to mine. “I like that guy. Whoever he is.”

“I wonder why.”

I jogged over to Dearbhaile and swept her into my arms. “I’m so glad you are safe, Rishka.

“And I, ye.” She slanted her mouth over mine and gave me a deep kiss.

My Dream Funeral

Billy as The Grim Reaper Art by Ariel Olivetti.
Billy as The Grim Reaper Art by Ariel Olivetti. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)


Yes, I have a dream funeral. Feck off.




One of my friends will dress up as the Grim Reaper, stand at the head of my coffin and say nothing. Another friend will have rigged my coffin with a semi catapult so that half way through the eulogy, my corpse will suddenly sit up and point at the front row. At the same time, a recording of my voice will play, “You’re next, feckers.” After the funeral, my friends will dress me in a Superman costume, take me up in a C-135


DC Comics' casts pays tribute to The Man of St...
DC Comics’ casts pays tribute to The Man of Steel. Art by Tom Grummett. (Photo credit: Wikipedia)


transport, and at 50,000 feet, chuck me out the back. That will be epically awesome.