Bug Out! California Book 16 is live!

Hello, All!

The final book in the Bug Out! California saga has been released!

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Here’s an excerpt from “The Clarke Chronicles – Galaxy of War I” – available for pre-order now.

Commander Stems and his attack force rushed through the crowded bay to their disks, standing on them. It took a few minutes for all to assemble. “Seal and prepare for takeoff.”

The flight suit walls went up, closing at the tip, the pilots connected and monitoring their displays.

“You remember what the Central Authority ground forces are wearing,” Stems said. “Try not to kill Xnander fighters. Also watch for heavy weapons. Tripod-mounted plasma cannons and railguns will kill you. That means we use speed enhancement to rush around. Watch where you release Variant Four Nanos. If there’s no distance between Central Authority and Xnander forces, don’t use those Nanos. Fight them the old-fashioned way. Oh, and release Variant Three Nanos against any of their mechanized weapons you see. Vehicles too.”

“Will those Variant Three Nanos disable their Plasma cannons?” Noone asked.

<Silver> Yes, and thanks for bringing that up. Take those out first thing.

“You heard her,” Stems said. “We’re ready to leave.”

“Bridge cleared,” Crystalline said. “Stand by for doors.”

There was an alarm, and the bay doors opened wide, the flight suits rising off the floor, the first row going horizontal and flying outside, becoming invisible as they left, the other rows following one by one.

“Here we go,” Stems said. “The battle topography will hit your displays in a moment. Let your AIs guide you.”

<Cricket> About time you mentioned us, Stems.

“No levity,” Stems said. “This is dangerous. Everybody stay sharp.”

The flight suits rushed to the surface, smoke and dust kicked up by railguns ahead of them, the battles in orbit seeming to worsen the fighting, both sides frantic, pouring fire at each other from behind their ridges.

“Plasma cannons on the south ridge,” Stems said. “I count six of them here. Let’s nail them, they’re taking a huge toll on our allies.”

The flight tubes landed behind the south ridge, the sides dropping, the black-suited fighters visible, shouts coming from the ridge as the Central Authority infantry saw them rushing towards their position, and then the black figures disappeared, re-appearing next to the plasma guns and fighters, Nanos releasing.

“Going for that plasma cannon,” Stems said, speed enhancement getting him next to it in a micro second, Variant three Nanos released, the gun’s fire stopping as the gunners tried to turn it towards their attackers in a panic, cheers coming from the Xander’s lines as enemy troops blew up all over the field.

“Look out, aircraft approaching,” Noone said after killing another plasma cannon.

“I see it,” Stems said. He looked for a long, flat piece of ground to get a running start at a jump, heat spreading on his back as a Central Authority soldier hit him with his plasma gun, Variant Four Nanos flying without Stems even turning around, the attacker puffing up and exploding in an instant. “You can help me jump high enough to release Variant Three Nanos, right?”

<Cricket> Yes, but let me take over. Ready?

“I was born ready.”

<Cricket> Cute. Relax yourself.

Stems took off running, not even feeling his legs move, and then he was in the air, flying towards the low-flying craft, releasing the Nanos and dropping to the ground as the engines of the aircraft stopped, on his feet, turning to fire Variant Four Nanos at the troops rushing him. He moved further into the swarm of enemy troops as the aircraft crashed behind him, releasing Nanos as he went, speeding towards the spot in the line that was closest to the Xnander line, using his fists and feet to literally take apart the infantry men. His comrades joined him, the enemy turning to flee back to their lines, hit with Variant Four Nanos when they were far enough away. The battle didn’t take long after that, the field littered with exploded enemy fighters, the rebel fighters standing, watching as the Xnander forces came down, all of them cheering, tears running down their cheeks. One of the leaders approached Stems, who was standing with Noone and several more of his leads.

<Cricket> Setting PAs to translate.

<Stems> Thanks.

“Samson Corporation?” asked the soldier, a burly man with blazing red hair. “I’m Seteriotus, leader of the Fourth Army of Xnander.

Stems grinned, dictating to take off strength enhancement and shaking the man’s hand. “Yes, we’re from the Spitfire. It’s in orbit above us. All the Central Authority spacecraft and their space dock have been destroyed.

“Spitfire?” Seteriotus asked. “I figured it was the New Jersey.”

“It’s the sister ship of the New Jersey,” Stems said. “The New Jersey is fighting at Coriton as we speak.”

<Cricket> That battle is almost over. It was a rout, just like here. Ground Nano suit forces are cleaning up the remaining Central Authority infantry on the surface, as we’re about to do here.

“Who’s that?” Seteriotus asked, hearing the muffled robotic voice.

“AI assistant,” Stems said. “Are there more places where Central Authority troops can be attacked?”

A broad smile came over Seteriotus’s face. “We know where their headquarters is. It’s gonna be tough to breach. They took over a former base of ours.”

“Can you show us the way?”

Pre-order here. Release date is June 10th.

The Clarke Chronicles Book 3 is published!

The Clarke Chronicles Book 3 – Immortal Warriors

The Overlords are on the run.

Simone over-estimated the power of her Razor battleships. Captain Trey Clarke’s New Jersey battleship bested her in several engagements, and then her attempted coup on Devonia Axxiom failed.

Overlord Senators and Representatives are being arrested. Prime Minister Aeon’s security forces have become a terror, disappearing people in the dead of night. Did the bad guys really lose? Or are things worse than ever?

Chairman Vermillion’s focus is the Samson Corporation’s secret fuel supply development and starship production. They’re making progress on both, but they are one leak away from discovery and destruction.

Peace talks are starting between the Samson Corporation and the Central Authority. Chairman Vermillion will travel to Devonia Axxiom for meetings. He’ll be unprotected. Will he survive?

Drake revealed technical capabilities to Captain Clarke that are beyond his wildest dreams. They are mankind’s best chance at restored liberty, but they could lead to an even darker period, if they fall into the wrong hands.

If you like heart-pounding space action, you’ll love The Clarke Chronicles Book 3 – Immortal Warriors.

Pick up your copy today, in the Kindle Store and Kindle Unlimited.

#spaceopera #starship #wormhhole #sciencefiction #wormholes #spacebattle

First book in a new Sci-Fi series published in the Kindle Store and Kindle Unlimited!

It’s out! The Clarke Chronicles Book 1 – Escape from Earth

Here’s the description:

Dark times are coming to the Central Authority Zone.

 

A political party called the Overlords is on the rise, their influence over the Central Authority Zone growing via subterfuge and the ballot box. Simone, the Overlord’s sinister leader, is making her plans known.

 

Government power spikes, security used as an excuse. Simone brings worlds who fight to heel. Individuals who speak out disappear in the dead of night.

 

Earth is in the Overlord’s sights, but Simone has a problem. The Samson Corporation stands in the way.

 

Chairman Vermillion of the Samson Corporation and his protégé Captain Trey Clarke know what’s coming next. They’re getting ready, but it’s a race against time.

 

Simone has the numbers and the power of the Central Authority behind her. The Samson Corporation has a handful of prototype ships. Can they survive?

 

If you like heart-pounding space action, you’ll love The Clarke Chronicles – Escape from Earth.

 

Pick up your copy today, in the Kindle Store and Kindle Unlimited.

Here’s a taste of Stolen Youth, released last night in the Kindle Store and Kindle Unlimited.

Ted sat in the passenger seat of the big black SUV, looking at his iPhone. “Should be just around that bend.”

Special Agent Simon Keith was driving. He was in his late thirties, but didn’t look it. He was robust, with thick brown hair, a handsome clean-shaven face, and eyes like a hawk.

“Look. Three dirt bikes over there, in the bushes to the right.” He parked.

“What are you doing?” Ted asked.

“Checking to see if the engines are warm,” he said, getting out. He trotted over, looked at them for a moment, felt the engines, and rushed back.

“Well?” Ted asked.

“Stone cold. A full-sized bike and two child’s bikes. Nice ones, too. They aren’t locked up. Nobody would just leave them like that if they had a choice.”

“Calling it in now,” Agent Joe Cooper said from the back. He was a rookie, with black hair, always chewing gum, his eyes shifting nervously from one thing to another.

Agent Keith drove the SUV around the bend. There was blood on the road in front of them.

“Somebody died on the road there,” Agent Keith said. “We’ll come back to it.” He kept going until they were at the driveway of the house, pulling in to make room for the second SUV.

“Hey, Simon,” Agent Cooper said. “Man and two sons reported missing a week ago. Were out for a Sunday ride.”

“Shit,” Agent Keith said.

“Yeah, shit,” Ted said. They got out of the car.

“Where are all the bodies?” Agent Cooper asked.

“Alien abduction,” Agent Keith said, shooting a sarcastic glance over at him. “Somebody cleaned up the site, obviously.”

“What the hell kind of bullets made those holes?” Agent Cooper asked.

“Looks like a BMG to me,” Agent Keith said. “Fifty caliber. You’re awful quiet, Ted.”

“I’m just here as an observer for the Serial Killer Task Force, through LAPD.”

“Yeah, I’ll bet,” he said. “Going to rush back and report to Malcolm Davis?”

Ted flashed him a look.

“Yeah, Ted, I know you two are tight,” Agent Keith said. “Don’t play us for dummies. If you know details, you’d better not hold back.”

“Come off it,” Ted said. “I’m here to help you guys. You already know that Malcolm Davis and George Franklin were involved. I told you guys, remember?”

“Yeah, so what? Looks kinda like an ambush to me.”

“They were being hunted, Keith, dammit,” Ted said. “You know it.”

“Yeah, I know it. They could have come to us for protection.”

“Hmmm, let’s think about that for a minute,” Ted said. “They come to you. You put them in witness protection. They lose all contact with their family and friends, and get to go live in some hellhole like Fargo, hoping that one of your agents doesn’t decide to put his kids through college by giving out their location. Sounds like a great deal to me.”

“Fuck you,” Agent Keith said, shaking his head. “Fuck you.”

“I’ve seen it happen before,” Ted said. “How many of your men got killed by these assholes again?”

“We were zeroing in on Sailor Boy before your friends got involved,” he spat.

“Why don’t you two zip it?” Agent Cooper asked. “You sound like assholes.”

Agent Keith glared at him.

“You’re the junior agent, so shut the hell up.”

“Baloney,” Agent Cooper said. “I’m not shedding any tears for Jason Beckler, Earl Wilson, or Sadie Evans. No way, no how. And by the way, the live scumbags involved with this mess took out a father and two kids, probably because they simply showed up at a bad time. Too bad those assholes weren’t killed by Malcolm and George too.” He was chewing his gum faster and faster.

“Look around,” Agent Keith said. “Look how many blood spots there are. There were more than three serial killers massacred here.”

The three men were on the porch now, looking in the house, the curtains blowing out the windows at them.

“Hey, Jamie,” Agent Keith yelled. A small lean man trotted over from the second SUV with a plastic case in one hand.

“Yeah,” he said.

“See if you can figure out where on the ridge these fifty-cal shots came from, and then send a couple men up there to survey the spot.”

“On it,” he said.

Agent Keith looked at Ted again. “You really think this was okay?”

“Do I think what was okay? Why are you trying to draw me into this argument? I wasn’t involved.”

“Yeah, but your buddy was,” Agent Keith said. “And the sick thing is that he’ll get away with it again, thanks to folks like you who look the other way.”

“You want to prosecute Malcolm Davis and George Franklin for what happened here?” Ted asked. “Really? Let’s hear how you’re going to convince a prosecutor to take it on.”

“Strange blast pattern by the back edge of the house,” Jamie said, walking up onto the porch.

“Oh, really?” Agent Cooper asked. “Strange how?”

“Shrapnel all around, like something blew up, but it wasn’t a grenade,” he said. “Too small for that.”

“I smell the spook,” Agent Keith said. “Any comments, Ted?”

“How would I know what caused that?” he asked.

Agent Keith shook his head.

“Damn, lots of brains on the walls,” Agent Cooper said. “I’m going to go check the back.”

Ted took one last look around the living room of the house, and then stepped into the front yard, looking around a boulder with bullet scores. He could see from the sand that somebody had been lying there. Good cover.

Agent Cooper trotted over to him. “Look what I found.” He thrust out a gloved hand, holding a crossbow arrow. He looked at Ted’s face, his mouth working the gum hard and fast.

“Better show that to your boss,” Ted said.

Agent Cooper’s eyes narrowed. “You know what he’s gonna say.”

“It’s evidence,” Ted said.

“It feeds the ambush theory,” Agent Cooper said.

“Why do you care?”

“I’ve been studying your friend for a long time, Ted. I don’t want him out of action.”

“You don’t sound like an FBI agent to me,” Ted said softly, a sly smile on his face.

“Let’s just say I don’t believe in a black and white world,” he said. “Unlike Ranger Rick over there.”

“You’re the kind of agent we need,” Ted said. “Malcolm is safe, and we don’t need your career to end over hiding evidence. Give the arrow to your boss, but make sure that all the blood samples in the house get analyzed.”

“Why?”

“Because some of the blood in there belongs to Malcolm, that’s why.”

“Ah, that doesn’t feed the ambush theory, does it?” he asked, smiling as he walked to the house. “Hey, Jamie, send one of your guys in the house. We need to take samples of each and every blood spot. I want to witness the collection.”

Ted turned back to the spot behind the boulder. The impression in the sand was large. Big man. He took a picture, and then got down into a squat and looked more closely around the brush. He saw metal, half covered by sand. Car keys. He grabbed them and felt something else. Is that a wallet? He picked it up, looking around to see if anybody saw him. Everybody was inside or in back of the house. He laid the wallet and its contents out, taking pictures with his iPhone. Most of it was the usual stuff. Credit cards with phony names. Fake driver’s license. In the bill section there was a folded piece of paper, tattered with age. He opened it up, and his eyes got wide. Nicknames, phone numbers, addresses. He took a picture of that, too. Then he quickly re-assembled it and rushed into the house.

“Hey, Agent Keith, you might be interested in this,” he said, handing the wallet and keys to him.

“Where did you find it?” he asked, eyeing him.

“See that boulder out front? Pretty sure Beckler was pinned down behind it. Go look at the sand. Looks like the impression of a large man to me. These were half buried in the sand, under that bush next to the boulder.”

Agent Keith opened the wallet and looked for the driver’s license. His eyes got big. “Jason Beckler. Bingo! Not his name, of course, but a good picture.”

Agent Cooper rushed over and took a look. “That’s one scary-looking motherfucker.”

“That alias seems familiar,” Agent Keith said.

“Forgot to look,” Ted said.

Keith looked closely at the license, reading. “Harold Robbins. That was a famous person, wasn’t it? Can’t quite place it.”

Ted and Agent Cooper looked at each other and chuckled.

 

Pick up your copy here!

 

Here’s a taste of Bug Out! Texas Book 13

Here’s a chapter from Bug Out! Texas Book 13 – currently in work. It’ll go through more editing before the book is released. I’m targeting the end of June for the release. Enjoy!

 

Brushy was behind the wheel of his truck, Jax in the passenger seat, a line of trucks behind them, comprised mostly of Nixon’s men.

“We’re gonna stuff everybody on that Texas A&M property?” Brushy asked. “Won’t they be easy to see?”

“I’ve been there before,” Jax said. “There’s a police academy on the property, along with the airport.”

“Airport?”

“Flight Test Air Station,” Jax said. “Don’t worry, we’ve been given permission. It’s off the beaten path quite a ways. We won’t be seen.”

“How many people are coming?”

Jax snickered. “Current count? Hundred and eighty thousand citizens, all armed, most with off-roaders. We’re getting about three quarters of the Fort Stockton off-roaders too.”

Brushy shot him a glance. “Holy Toledo.”

“Get back on Highway 6, then take Highway 21 west after we pass College Station.”

“I remember seeing that when we were going up to Benchley. Are the enemy fighters still holding at Whiskey Bridge?”

“So far,” Jax said.

“How we gonna hide all these folks? Whiskey Bridge isn’t that far north of where we’re going.”

“Next time we stop, look at the satellite view on your map program. There’s a big forest next to the river. It’ll hold all of us, but we’ll have to be quiet, and keep the smells to a minimum.”

“Where’s the rest of the forces going?”

“Both further north and further south,” Jax said.

“There’s Highway Six,” Brushy said, getting on it. “We’re already on the back side of College Station.”

They rolled along quietly for a moment, Jax reading text messages on his phone.

“Lookie there,” Brushy said, pointing ahead on the right side of the road. “Seems like a whole lot of semi-trucks to be parked there.”

“Shit,” Jax said, looking at the big parking lot covered with rigs. “What is that place?”

“That’s the parking lot for an off-roader park,” Brushy said. “See the tracks behind it?”

“Son of a bitch,” Jax said, typing on his phone as they passed it.

“What are you doing?”

“Telling Nixon to get his people to spread out before they get here, so it don’t look like no caravan.”

“Maybe we should go check it out,” Brushy said.

“We’ve got a job to do.”

“Yeah, but we didn’t know they was here.”

“We don’t even know if that’s the enemy or not. Might just be storage of some rigs.”

“What if it ain’t?” Brushy asked. “We might be able to blow up the whole kit and kaboodle before they can disappear along the river.”

“Dammit,” Jax said, typing on his phone again. “Get off at the next ramp.”

“Now we’re talking,” Brushy said. “Where’s the next ramp?”

“Further than I like, and we’ll have to do some twists and turns to get back there. The next ramp dumps off near the back parking lot of a small shopping center. Looks like you can use that to get to a road we can take south. Austins Colony Parkway. Take that to Boonville Road.”

Brushy nodded, watching for the off-ramp, getting into the right lane after a while.

“There it is, see the sign?”

Brushy nodded. “About time.” He took the ramp onto the frontage road, then turned into the parking lot of the shopping center, threading his way through to the road and turning right.

“Now don’t go nuts when we get there, you crazy old coot,” Jax said. “Get it?”

“Trust me.”

“Not on your life,” Jax said, shooting him a stern look, then cracking up. “I can’t stay mad at your sorry ass for more than a minute, I swear.”

Brushy broke into his donkey-bray laugh.

“Pay attention, dammit. There’s Boonville Road. Get on that sucker.”

“Yes sir, Captain sir.”

Jax rolled his eyes, then pulled his two pistols out of the glove box, raising his right pants leg and stuffing the small .38 snuby in his boot. He held the 9mm auto, checking the magazine.

“I thought we weren’t going crazy,” Brushy quipped.

“I’m not. Use a hideout gun. We’re liable to get caught.”

“Maybe we should bring that dynamite I’ve got in the back,” Brushy said. “Could hide some in my overalls.”

Jax eyed him, shaking his head. “How much we got?”

“I’ve got a whole crate back there, but ten sticks ought to do,” he said. “Stuff is kinda old.”

“Of course it is. I’m texting the others. I want them to follow but hang back a ways.” Jax picked up his phone and typed the text message.

“What’s the next street?”

Jax looked at his phone, moving back to the map program. “Right on Briarcrest, then a left on Green Valley Drive. We’re going in through the woods, next to a little lake. You still got fishing poles in the back too?”

“Hell yeah. Good cover.”

“Watch the road, there’s our street. See where the gas station is?”

“Don’t worry, I’m on it,” Brushy said, making the right turn almost too fast, Jax shooting him another stern look. “You ain’t kidding, there’s Green Valley.” He made the left turn.

“We need to pull over before we get to the homes. They’re just past the forest. Slow down. I’ll tell you.”

Brushy nodded, slowing the truck down, driving with his eyes peeled for a moment.

“Here,” Jax said.

Brushy pulled over to the side, tucking in under some trees. Brushy checked his pistols, putting his two shot .357 Derringer in the lower pocket of his overalls, a .32 auto into an upper pocket. Jax shook his head.

“Shit, your frigging Derringer is more powerful than your main gun.”

“She kicks like a mule with .357, too. Usually run .38 special through her, but plumb out of those now.” He pulled a box of .357 ammo out from under the seat and put a handful into a different pocket in his overalls.

“You’re gonna make noise walking around like that,” Jax said as he got out.

“It’s broad daylight, we ain’t gonna be hidden anyway.”

They went to the truck bed, Brushy opening the back of the camper shell, pulling out two old fishing poles, leaning them against the truck. Then he reached further in and grabbed a wooden crate, pulling it to the tailgate, removing the top and picking out ten sticks of dynamite. He slipped them under his overalls, down into his underwear.

Jax shook his head. “You’re joking, right? Remind me not to touch any of those.”

Brushy looked like he was going to start his crazy laugh, but stopped himself, shrugged, and closed the camper shell, handing a fishing pole to Jax and taking one himself. “Let’s go, peewee.”

They walked into the trees, which were dense, empty beer cans and cigarette butts littering the path, which ended at the bank of a muddy pond.

“We should get the lines wet,” Brushy said, casting out the Bomber bass plug that was tied on, reeling back in quickly. “Careful, lot of structure down there.”

“Afraid I’m gonna lose your frigging lure?” Jax asked as he cast out.

“Yeah, as a matter of fact. Some of these are collector’s items now.”

Jax chuckled. “Yeah, you might have to go as far as a Walmart to replace them.”

“Hardee har har,” Brushy said as he cast out again, reeling in quick. His pole bent hard, line peeling off, his drag squealing.

“You’ve got to be frigging kidding,” Jax said, watching Brushy fight the fish.

“It’s a stud, buddy,” Brushy said, trying to keep from yelling as he fought the bass all the way to shore. “Holy crap, this bad boy probably weighs eight or ten pounds.”

Jax smiled. “We’ll carry it over there, ask if they know where the fish cleaning station is.”

“Wonder if these fish are their kind of kosher?”

“Halal, you moron,” Jax said, “and I have no idea.”

Brushy grinned at him. “It’s a beauty. Maybe I ought to try for some more.”

“Later. Much later. We’ve got a job to do, and if we don’t hurry it up, Nixon’s guys will show up at a bad time. C’mon.”

Brushy took the fish off the lure’s treble hook, then grabbed it by the lower lip. They took off through the woods, along the bank of the pond, then onto the dirt track behind the parking lot.

“We’ve already been seen,” Jax whispered as they approached, nodding towards an Islamist fighter, dressed to look like a Mexican farm migrant.

Brushy sped up towards the man. “Hey, buddy, know where the cleaning station is? Look at this monster. Just got it out of the pond over yonder.”

“Freeze,” the man said, pulling a hand gun. His forehead was beaded with sweat, his accent upper Midwest American.

“Freeze?” Brushy asked. “What the hell? I just want to clean my damn fish.”

“Drop the fish and lay on the ground.”

Jax eyed him. “Who the hell are you?”

“You’re trespassing. I’m calling the authorities.”

“Call them,” Jax said, hand inching towards his 9mm.

“I said freeze,” the man said, his voice trembling.

“What go on there?” asked a second Islamist, dressed in the same way, with an Arabic accent. There was a bandage on his triceps.

“I told them to get down, but they aren’t following instructions,” the first man said.

The second Islamist grinned. “That easy to solve.” He pulled his pistol and fired, hitting Jax in the thigh, knocking him to the ground.

Brushy flung the bass at the men, hitting the first in the chest, causing him to drop his gun, Brushy’s Derringer out in a flash, hitting the shooter in the chest, killing him instantly. Before Brushy could fire at the first man, he had his pistol back and was pointing it at him. “Down now.”

“Screw you, cretin,” Jax said, his pistol in his hand now, firing several shots into his torso, dropping him as several other Islamists rushed towards them, stopping when they saw guns pointed at them. There were murmurs coming from inside the closest semi-trailer, and somebody started pounding on the door, another Islamist showing up to open it, and then all hell broke loose, Nixon and his men rushing in with their M4s and M60s, killing every Islamist they saw.

“About time you guys got here,” Jax said, his leg bleeding.

Nixon saw his wound and looked over at one of his guys.

“Chad, put a tourniquet on Jax here. The rest of you, make sure those semi-trailers are all latched, and make sure there aren’t any more Islamists around the cabs.”

“Hey, lookie what I got,” Brushy said, pulling out a stick of dynamite.

Nixon grinned. “Well I’ll be damned. We need to rig those, just in case these are just booby traps.”

“Heard fighters inside. Surprised they ain’t making any noise now. They must be scared shitless.”

“You’ve got a detonator and a bunch of wire in the back of your truck,” Jax said, his face turning to a grimace as the tourniquet was pulled tight.

“Yep, I sure do,” Brushy said.

Gunfire erupted from one of the trailers, poking holes in the side, causing the short-range apps to buzz everyone on the team.

“Look out!” Nixon said, pointing his M60 at the bullet holes and firing, the men inside screaming as bullets ripped through the side. “Brushy, go get that stuff. Chad, go with him.”

Brushy nodded and ran off with Chad, getting to the truck after a moment.

“Was that a bass laying next to the bodies?” Chad asked.

Brushy laughed. “Yeah. Caught it in the pond. Threw it at one cretin after the other one plugged Jax. Think we ought to bring the whole crate of dynamite?”

“Yeah,” Chad said, helping Brushy pull out the wooden crate, the detonator, and the wire. They rushed back to the parking lot, where Nixon had men pointing guns at the tailgates of all twelve semi-trailers.

“Holy crap, that’s a lot of explosive,” one of Nixon’s guys said.

“Quiet,” Nixon said, shooting a volley into the nearest trailer again to keep the enemy from watching them.

Chad and Brushy set up the explosives as some other men picked up Jax and rushed him back to the trucks. It took nearly fifteen minutes to get the charges set up. The faint sound of prayer was coming out of trailers now, the enemy knowing they weren’t going to last long. Brushy unwound wire from the spool, getting back about sixty yards, connecting the wires to the polls on the detonator.

“Fire in the hole.” He pushed down the plunger, all the trailers breaking and flying into the air, coming down in flames, body parts and metal raining down on the parking lot.

“Our job here is done,” Brushy said.

“Hey, boss, there were nearly two thousand hits in those trailers,” Chad said.

“A good day’s work,” Nixon said. “Jax is in route to the hospital now. Let’s continue on to our rendezvous point.”

Brushy nodded, but turned and ran back to the parking lot.

“What the hell are you doing, man?” Chad shouted.

“I ain’t leaving that bass behind.”

 

 

Bug Out! Texas Book 1 is now just 99 cents in the Kindle Store! Free in Kindle Unlimited! This is the story of Texas Patriots and their struggle against enemies, foreign and domestic, during the Bug Out! War. Chock full of action, adventure, suspense, and romance. Pick up your copy of Bug Out! Texas Book 1 today!

 

Copyright Robert Boren 2018

Here’s a taste of Stolen Youth – the next in the Franklin and Davis series.

This one is in editing right now. It’s a full-length novel, and it’s rated NC-17 – so beware if you don’t like bad language, violence, ect. It follows the further exploits of George Franklin and Malcolm Davis. Hoping to have it out in a couple months.

This is Chapter 38 “Red Relatives” – these cretins are the wild, savage siblings of Red Dagger, a serial killer who tangled with Malcolm Davis and didn’t live through it…

“Dammit, Fergey, knock it off!” shouted Fred.

Fergey was driving the van, weaving in and out of traffic like a madman, narrowly missing several cars and a semi-truck. They were blasting down I-75 from Gaylord, Michigan. Fred was in the passenger seat, eyes wide, sweating. Hal was sitting in back, leaned against the paneled wall, playing his harmonica.

“Will you stop with that, Hal?” Fred shouted. “And Fergey, don’t forget to get on route 127. At the rate you’re driving, we’ll miss it.”

“You worry too much, you piss-ant,” Fergey said, crazy eyes staring at him, his long red hair and beard blowing in the breeze from his open window. Fergey was huge. Tall and overweight, with monstrous arms and an overhanging brow, making him look simian.

“Why don’t you close that window and turn on the air conditioner?” Fred shouted

“Blow me,” Fergey said, laughing. “I like the road coming at me. I got to feel it. So shut the fuck up.”

“Yeah, what he said,” shouted Hal from the back. “That damn air conditioner doesn’t get back here. I’ll take the wind any day.” He went back to his harmonica, playing it louder than before.

Fred glared back at Hal, then over at Fergey again. Fred was a tall skinny man, with long red hair, clean shaven. He had rat eyes and a weak chin.

“Hey, Fergey, want a drink?” Hal shouted, holding up a bottle of Black Velvet.

“Yeah, pass me that bottle,” Fergey said, laughing. Hal came up with it, handing it over as Fred watched in disgust. Fergey stared right at Fred as he took a big swig. Then he handed it back to Hal.

“You want some, Fred?”

“Yeah, what the hell,” Fred said, taking the bottle from Hal. “Might as well die happy.”

Fergey and Hal both cracked up as he took a big slug.

“Now we’re talkin,” Hal said. He was the youngest of the three brothers by several years, normal height and size, with short red hair and a long red beard. He looked about twenty-five, but he was really in his mid-thirties.

“There’s Route 127,” Fred said, pointing.

Fergey looked back at Hal, grinning, staying in his lane.

“C’mon, you’re going to miss it, asshole,” Fred said.

Fergey let out a yee-haw and flew across four lanes of traffic, cars honking behind him, tires squealing. He barely made the ramp, and hit the curve too fast, struggling to keep the van from rolling over.

“You asshole!” shouted Fred, as Hal rolled on the floor of the van laughing his ass off.

“Hey, we made it,” Fergey said. “No harm, no foul, little brother.”

“Why are you in such a God-damned hurry anyway?” Fred asked. “It won’t take us a week to drive down there.”

“I want to be there nice and early to check things out,” he said, grinning. “You don’t trust those guys, do you?”

“Nah,” Fred said. “I didn’t even want to come, remember?”

“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean anything,” Hal said. “You’re a pussy. That’s normal behavior for a pussy.”

“Fuck you,” Fred said. “The main reason I came along was to make sure you guys don’t get yourselves frigging killed. Ma’s been through enough.”

“Yeah, whatever,” Hal said.

“I’m anxious to get some of what Margo has,” Fergey said.

“She ain’t gonna let you within ten yards of that luscious body of hers,” Fred said. “Remember what happened last time? She’s the main person I’m worried about in all of this.”

“Her protection’s gone,” Fergey said. “I just might decide to keep her.”

“You’re nuts,” Fred said.

“I’ll help you with her, if I get some,” Hal said.

“Damn straight,” Fergey said. “Share and share alike.”

“You better be careful,” Fred said. “She’s smarter than both of you idiots. Smarter than Earl was, too.”

“Well, she’s still alive,” Hal said. “I guess that’s something.”

“That’s what I’m sayin,” Fred said.

“Listen to yourselves,” Fergey said. “You really afraid of her? Seriously?”

“I don’t think that’s the right way to put it,” Hal said. “She’s like a rattler. Treat her with the respect she deserves, and don’t turn your back. Doesn’t mean we can’t beat her.”

“Yeah, if we’re smart we can,” Fred said, “but Fergey has to do the thinking with the big head instead of the little head. Think you can do that, smart ass?”

Fergey snickered. “They work as a team.”

Hal busted up laughing again. “Yeah, you got that right.”

“Hey, somebody’s trying to get my attention,” Fergey said, looking in his mirror. “He’s been back there for a while. I think he’s pissed about my lane changes.”

“Great,” Fred said.

“Uh oh, he’s coming around on your side,” Fergey said, grinning. “Let’s play with him a little.”

“Will you settle down?” Fred shouted. He looked out the window. There was a man in a Buick shouting at him. Fred rolled down the window.

“Something wrong?” Fred asked calmly.

“You idiots made me drop my lunch all over my lap,” the man shouted. He was a white collar worker in his fifties, with an angry old face.

“Sorry about that,” Fred said.

“Fuck you,” the man said. Then he threw the burrito. It sailed through the window, hitting Fred in the face.

“God Dammit!” Fred shouted. He pulled a pistol out of the side pocket in his door and fired four times, splattering the man’s head all over the inside of his car. It hit the shoulder and rolled into a ditch.

“That thinking with the big head?” Fergey shouted, laughing so hard he could barely keep the van in its lane.

“Anybody see that from behind?” Hal asked.

“Nah, nobody was close enough,” Fergey said. “Nobody saw from the front either.”

“Son of a bitch,” Fred said, trying to clean the burrito off his shirt. “This is your fault, asshole.” He glared at Fergey, who was still laughing. Then he cracked a smile and laughed himself.

“Good shootin there, Tex,” Hal said from the back.

“Should have seen his eyes when he was staring into the barrel of my gun. He probably pissed himself before I pulled the trigger.”

“We’s gonna have us some fun on this trip!” Fergey shouted, following it with another Yee-haw!

 

 

Bug Out! California Book 1 is now available in the Kindle Store, free in Kindle Unlimited!

 

The Plan – How the Bugout! War Started is now available in the Kindle Store, free in Kindle Unlimited!

 

Bug Out! Texas Book 1 is now just 99 cents in the Kindle Store! Free in Kindle Unlimited! This is the story of Texas Patriots and their struggle against enemies, foreign and domestic, during the Bug Out! War. Chock full of action, adventure, suspense, and romance. Pick up your copy of Bug Out! Texas Book 1 today!

 

Please visit and like my author page on Facebook!

 

Here’s the series that started it all! Bug Out! Pick up your copy of book 1 for just 99 cents in the Kindle Store!

 

Horror Road – A Supernatural Thriller! Available now in the Kindle Store!

 

The first of my full length novels has been published in the Amazon Kindle store, available now. For those of you have have been readying the Bugout! series, the story involves George and Malcolm, and is set about seven years earlier. This book R rated, instead of the PG-13 of the Bugout! Series, so be warned. Here’s the link to “Never A Loose End”

 

Copyright Robert Boren 2018

Horror Road Book 1 – Free Promotion through April 5th!

Free Promotion! Horror Road Book 1 is free through April 5th!

Here’s a dirty little secret. Spirits can kill you.

Sandy couldn’t take it anymore. Her work as a psychic for the LAPD was tearing her apart. Murders. Playing out in her head at night and slipping into her thoughts during the day. She quit.

Her friend Mary Grace was still in the game, working with the police and running psychic investigations on the side. She had a séance planned. One that was right up Sandy’s alley. All she had to do was convince Sandy to join her.

Holding a séance is the psychic’s way of opening doors, and Mary Grace was an expert. Sandy reluctantly said yes, but some doors are better left shut. The spirit they awakened was dangerous enough on its own, but it was tied to a much darker presence. An ancient power that could reach into the world and take them.

The Horror Road series is a dark tale of pursuit and possession that will have you on the edge of your seat from start to finish.

Download your copy now and settle in, because you won’t be able to put it down.

#KindleUnlimited #mayhem #murder #orgy #ghost #Supernatural #thriller #horror

Countdown Deal!

Countdown Deal! Now in the Kindle Store.

Sam was a former Navy Seal who retired to lead a peaceful life, running a sleepy RV Park.

When California was invaded by an army of savages, he had to protect those he loved.

He engaged the invaders, finding out their leader was the man who’d driven him to ruin as a Seal. The mayhem that ruled his former life broke onto the surface like a festering sore.

Can he battle the enemy without destroying the civilized man he’d become?

Or will the darkness reclaim him?

Here’s an excerpt from Bug Out! Texas Book 7 – currently in editing.

Bugout_cover

Chapter 12 – News Conference

Richardson and Lita sat on the front porch next to Roberto and Kris.

“You think we’re gonna be safe here?” Kris asked. “We really poked the hornet’s nest.”

“Depends on if there’s more bases close by,” Richardson said.

“Yeah, that’s the real question,” Roberto said. “You get chewed out by your CO?”

“Not really,” Richardson said. “After I explained it to him.”

“It went viral,” Lita said. “Big time. We’re even in the international news.”

“I’ll bet half of the media thinks we’re villains,” Kris said.

“Pretty much,” Lita said.

“Screw ‘em,” Roberto said. “Let them have their families attacked.”

“Wish we had an alternate location,” Richardson said. “I feel completely exposed here.”

Roberto’s phone rang. He fished it out of his pocket. “Gerald. I’ll put it on speaker.”

“Okay, Gerald, what’s up?”

“Governor Nelson is gonna do a speech in a few minutes,” he said. “Rumor has it that he’s going to address our posting.”

Richardson chuckled. “This ought to be interesting.”

“I’ll go get the TV turned on inside,” Kris said.

“Yeah, I’ll go with you,” Lita said.

“Better go round up the kids,” Richardson said.

“Shouldn’t we have somebody stay in that boat?” Lita asked.

“We’ll get early warning from the dogs,” Roberto said. “Bring guns inside though, just in case.”

“For sure,” Richardson said, heading towards the boat. “Hey, guys, come on in the house. Nelson’s about to talk.”

“What about guarding the place?” Brendan asked.

“Roberto’s leaving the dogs out here,” Richardson said. “It won’t be for too long.”

“Good, I want to see this,” Juan Carlos said, helping Madison up.

They rushed into the house, Madison barely using her crutches now.

“I’m gonna be nervous the whole time we’re in here,” Hannah said.

“It’ll be okay,” Brendan told her as they went through the door. The TV was already on, the reporters milling around in a crowded press room, waiting for the Governor to come out.

“That’s in the bunker,” Richardson said. “Been down there once.”

“Really?” Lita asked. “Why?”

“Tour, believe it or not,” Richardson said. “Seems like that was a whole different world.”

“Tell me about it,” Roberto said. “Look, here he comes.”

Governor Nelson walked up to the podium, flanked by Major General Gallagher and Chief Ramsey.

“Thank you all for coming. This will be brief. I’ll allow a few questions after the statement.”

There were murmurs in the room. Nelson waited till they died down.

“I’m sure you saw the meme which went viral on the internet last night. It touched off a firestorm in the establishment media, which disturbs me more than the graphic nature of the photos. We’ve had an alarming reaction from the foreign press, particularly in the EU. There are now calls for the UN to move into Texas, if the US Federal Government can’t settle things down here.”

He paused for a moment, watching the press corps, making eye contact with several of the more prominent members.

“I’ve given careful consideration on how to respond to both the meme, and the emotional reaction from the press and some foreign governmental entities.”

Murmurs flooded the room again, as reporters hammered away on their cell phones and tablets.

 “The United States is under attack by foreign groups, aided by treasonous government officials at the state and federal levels. The foreign groups include the following: The Islamic Caliphate. The UN. The Government of Venezuela. The Government of North Korea. Secessionist Militia Groups in the Southwestern states, who recognize neither the Federal Government nor the Republic of Texas. These attacks are being coordinated by the EU leadership in Belgium and their Globalist partners, foreign and domestic.”

The room exploded with reactions, from boos to cheers. Nelson waited for the crowd to settle down. Some in the crowd began arguing with each other. Chief Ramsey stepped near the microphone, Nelson backing away.

“Settle down or you will be removed from this facility,” the Chief said sharply.

The group quieted down after a moment.

“Wow,” Richardson said, eyes glued to the screen.

“I love this guy, dude,” Juan Carlos said.

Nelson stepped back up. “The story that the meme tells is true. My office checked it out. Islamist fighters near San Marcos were kidnapping young women. These thugs took them back to their hideout at an abandoned recycling center. They used our women for sex slaves. Some victims were under sixteen years of age.”

“You have proof, I assume,” one reporter spat.

“Yes,” Nelson said. “I talked to some of the parents, and to others living in the area.”

“That doesn’t excuse what our people did,” the reporter said.

“Yes, it does,” Nelson said. “The enemy killed the hostages when Texas Patriots attempted to rescue them. The bodies were still warm when the patriots found them. This cannot stand. I support the actions of these Texas Patriots, and advise the Islamist invaders and their allies to expect similar treatment if they harm Texas citizens in this manner. Do I make myself clear?”

“This is barbaric,” said a female reporter near the back of the room.

“You can say that, as a woman?” another female reporter said. “You’re trash, and so is your movement. I ought to bust you right in the chops.”

“That’s enough,” Nelson said.

“Yes!” Hannah said.

Nelson waited while the crowd settled down.

“Geez, some of these reporters are clueless,” Lita said. “What if this was their wives or daughters?”

“Now, a few comments directly to the EU Leadership and the traitors in the Federal Government,” Nelson continued. “Texas left the union because we discovered what you were planning. We will fight you to the death. If you attack Texas, I suggest you bring a lot of body bags. We have twenty million armed citizens in Texas and they have at least thirty-four million guns between them. That’s not counting our Police Departments and the Texas National Guard. You’ve seen how effective our people can be, in places like Austin, Fort Stockton, Riviera Beach, and most recently San Antonio. Attack us at your peril. As a point of reference, the army of China is under four million troops.”

You could hear a pin drop in the room. Gallagher shot a smile at Ramsey as Nelson collected his thoughts.

“Finally, I have a special message for the UN, which is doing a lot of sabre rattling due to the meme in question.”

“Here it comes,” Richardson said.

“We know what you are doing in California. We know about the murders and rapes. We know about the attempted lockdown of that state. We know you are teamed with the Islamist Army there. We also know California Patriots are fighting you, and we know they will win.”

One of the reporters chuckled. Nelson smiled.

“Contrary to popular belief, there are almost as many guns in private hands in California as there are in Texas. The UN and their Islamist partners will not defeat the armed citizens of California. To aid in the struggle, this administration will make public all reliable stories we receive about actions of the UN in California, and we wish our California brothers-in-arms well.”

There was a smattering of applause in the room.

“If the UN attempts to enter the great state of Texas, they will be met by a hail of bullets. We will hunt you down and kill you like the dogs that you are. You cannot defeat us. We will kill you wholesale. Do I make myself clear?”

Murmurs erupted again, some reporters visibly shaken and others smiling.

“That’s the end of my prepared comments. I’ll take a few questions.”

A reporter in the front raised his hand. Nelson pointed to him, and he stood up.

Price Jones, Washington Post. What’s to stop the Federal Government from just nuking Texas and moving on?”

Nelson chuckled. “They could do that, but they won’t. Texas has friends who understand what the Federal Government is up to. They are prepared to step in.”

“Foreign friends?” the report asked. “Would you like to get more specific?”

“Nope,” Nelson said. “Next question.”

“What’s he talking about?” Brendan asked.

“Probably the Russians,” Richardson said. “They’ve been on our side since the beginning.”

“Quiet, he’s talking again,” Madison said.

“Second row center,” Nelson said, pointing into the sea of raised hands.

A woman stood up. “Kat Bower, MSNBC. Do you consider what was done to the Islamists by the dogs cruel and against the Geneva Convention?”

“Yes,” Nelson said.

“Are you intending on punishing the men who did that?” she asked.

“Nope,” Nelson said.

“Why not?”

“Because child rape and murder of civilians are also against the Geneva Convention,” Nelson said sharply. “That behavior needs to be answered, and the answer needs to be in language that these savages understand. Next question.”

“This is barbaric,” the woman cried.

Nelson ignored her and picked another reporter, towards the back of the room.

“Harrison French, Fox News. Have you been in contact with Ivan the Butcher, and do you support his actions in California?”

Nelson chuckled. “Ivan the Butcher. Colorful fellow. I enjoyed his videos, and look forward to more. I’ve had no contact with him, but I fully support his actions against the invaders in California.”

“Thank you,” Harrison said.

“You’re not going to ask a follow up?” the CNN reporter next to him asked. She was a young woman with blonde hair and an attractive face.

Harrison laughed at her, shaking his head. “No, he answered my question. Do you want me to hammer the Governor for his support of an obvious patriot?”

“This is interesting,” Nelson said. “Bree, what is your follow-up?”

She stood up, a smirk on her face. “This ‘Ivan the Butcher’ character made his fortune on vice operations. Prostitution, gambling, and drugs.”

“That was a statement, not a question,” Nelson said.

She sighed, an exasperated look on her face. “How can you support him given his past actions?”

“Do you support the UN?” Nelson asked.

“Of course,” she said. “They’re a stabilizing influence, and we need that in the world today.”

Harrison burst out laughing. Others joined him.

“Next,” Nelson said.

“You don’t have a comment?” Bree asked.

“Sorry, but you aren’t too bright. Any response to that is a waste of time.”

Half the room cheered, the other half booed. Gallagher was laughing, and shot a glance at Ramsey again, who shook his head. Bree left the room in a huff.

“Sorry folks, that was a little harsh,” Nelson said. “I’ll try to behave. There’s time for a couple more questions.” He pointed to a reporter in the middle of the room.

“Brice Ketchum, Austin American-Statesmen. Are there plans for Texas to rejoin the Union, and if so, when?”

Nelson thought for a moment, the room silent.

“Uh oh,” Richardson whispered, eyes glued to the screen.

“Yes, we expect that Texas will rejoin the Union,” Nelson said. “I can’t tell you the timeframe or the exact circumstances that will lead to our re-entry, but I never intended to have Texas remain an independent republic for the long term.”

“You can’t give us any more info than that?” Brice asked.

“Well, this war must be over, and the Federal Government must be back under the control of the citizens,” Nelson said. “I’m hoping that’s sooner rather than later. Good enough?”

“For now,” Brice said.

“One more,” Nelson said. He pointed at a woman on the far right-hand side. She stood.

“Christine Simon, KXAN News. Will Texas hold their statewide elections for the next cycle, or will they be put off until the war is over?”

“I’m glad you asked that question, Christine,” Nelson said. “We will absolutely hold our Texas state elections on schedule no matter what, and they will be free and open. I won’t run for re-election, since this is my second term.”

The room burst into questions, reporters raising their hands frantically. Nelson waved to the crowd, left the stage, and headed for the door, Ramsey and Gallagher following him.

“Wow,” Roberto said. “That was quite a press conference. I didn’t vote for this guy, but I’m glad he’s in the job now.”

“This is gonna start a shit-storm,” Lita said.

“Only one thing surprised me,” Richardson said.

“What’s that, honey?” Lita asked.

“Texas has no term limits for Governor,” he replied. “Nelson could run again.”

“He’s doing the right thing,” Kris said. “And I did vote for him. Canceled Roberto’s vote right out.” She giggled.

“Why do you think he’s doing the right thing?” Richardson asked.

“To avoid any appearance that he wants to hold onto absolute control,” Kris said. “This is a great man. I hope Texas appreciates him.”

“He’ll get a lot of heat for what he said to that one idiot,” Brendan said.

“The CNN reporter,” Madison said. “She kinda pissed me off, after seeing what happened to those poor girls at the recycling center. The MSNBC reporter pissed me off more, though.”

“Seriously,” Lita said.

“What now?” Juan Carlos asked. “Should we go back to the boat?”

“Why don’t you stay in here and get some sleep,” Roberto said. “Trust me, the dogs will alert us if anybody shows up. I’ll let them loose. We got the M60s and M-16s in here.”

“You okay with that?” Brendan asked Richardson.

He thought about it for a moment. “Yeah, I am. Chances are good that we destroyed their local capability anyway, and we’ve been running on too little sleep for a few days. It’d be nice to catch up a little bit.”

“Good, then it’s settled,” Kris said. “I’ll show you were the guest rooms are.”

She got up, Lita, Madison, and Hannah following.

“You forgot your crutches,” Juan Carlos shouted to Madison.

“Don’t need them,” Madison said. “Don’t worry about it.” The women disappeared down the hall.

“So, you really think we’re safe?” Juan Carlos asked softly.

“Yeah,” Richardson said. “There was command and control stuff at the recycling center, those Gaz Tigrs, and all of those other supplies. That was a major base. They don’t have the bandwidth to man another one of those close by.”

“I hope you’re right, dude,” Juan Carlos said.

“Me too,” Roberto said. “We’ll find out soon enough.”
 

Bug Out! Book One is now available in paperback! The rest of the series will follow. It’s a new feature that Amazon has provided as part of Kindle Direct Publishing.

 

Bug Out! Texas Book 6 – Citizen Vengeance – next in the series is now available in the Kindle store, free in Kindle Unlimited!

 

Check out “The Plan” – it’s the story of how the Bugout War started.

 

Bug Out! Texas Book 5 – Wave of Patriots – next in the series is now available in the Kindle store, free in Kindle Unlimited!

 

Horror Road Book 4 – the latest in the series is now available in the Kindle store!

 

Bug Out! Texas Book 4 – Texas Battle Cry is now available in the Kindle store!

 

Bug Out! Texas Book 3 – Republic in Peril is now available in the Kindle store!

 

Bug Out! Texas Book 2 – The New Republic is now available in the Kindle Store. Pick up your copy of this exciting thriller today!

 

Bug Out! Texas has just been published in the Kindle Store! This is the story of Texas Patriots and their struggle against enemies, foreign and domestic, during the Bug Out! War. Chock full of action, adventure, suspense, and romance. Pick up your copy of Bug Out! Texas Book 1 today!

 

Please visit and like my author page on Facebook!

 

Here’s the series that started it all! Bug Out! Pick up your copy of book 1 for just 99 cents in the Kindle Store!

 

Horror Road – A Supernatural Thriller! Available now in the Kindle Store

 

The first of my full length novels has been published in the Amazon Kindle store, available now. For those of you have have been readying the Bugout! series, the story involves George and Malcolm, and is set about seven years earlier. This book R rated, instead of the PG-13 of the Bugout! Series, so be warned. Here’s the link to “Never A Loose End”

 

 

Copyright Robert Boren 2017