Showing posts with label Jim Johnson. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Jim Johnson. Show all posts

Tuesday, October 25, 2016

Beacon's Hope (Potomac Shadows, Book 2) by Jim Johnson

Release date: October 19, 2016
Subgenre: Urban fantasy

About Beacon's Hope:

 

When Rachel Farran accepted her calling to become a new Beacon, a reborn Fate and weaver of ley magics, she barely understood the world she was diving into. Lost souls, poltergeists, an ancient magical journal, and more await her in her journey, and she has to balance all of that with time for her girlfriend, training her magical ally Malcolm, and oh yeah, also trying to find a job to help make ends meet. It's enough to make a girl go crazy!

Beacon's Hope is the second book in Potomac Shadows, a paranormal fantasy series set in the Washington, D.C. metro area. Grab your copy today!

Excerpt:



Malcolm shook his head, and in a flash of blue and bronze etherics, sped toward Trench Coat and grabbed his gun in one blurringly fast burst of speed. My eyes widened as I spread my hands to move the ley shield along with him.
There was a burst of bronze light and then a ripple in the air arcing away from Malcolm and Trench Coat. The thugs on the same side of the SUV stumbled back. Malcolm backed away from Trench Coat, but never lost the grip on his ley threads.
I focused on Trench Coat. The pistol in his hand had sort of melted and fused into a jagged plastic and metal lump that steamed like it had been super-heated. He took one look at the thing then dropped it, shaking his hand. “God damn!”
Malcolm stared at him and then at the others. “Y’all better get on out of here or I’ll burn down every last one of you.”
I guessed Trench Coat was the leader of this little band. He blinked a few times and then somehow found a backbone. “Maybe I just have my boys open up on you and your girl here?”
Whoa. That’s it. I took a few long steps toward Malcolm and plastered a grin I sure didn’t feel on my face. “Hey, now, no need to get like that.” I rapidly worked the ley threads and pulled the shield around to stand between Trench Coat and Malcolm and I. “How about we just call this even and go our separate ways?”
Trench Coat stared at me. “There ain’t no even. Your boy here took something from Buster Jay. He wants it back.”
I shot a glance at Malcolm. Crap. Trench had to be talking about Malcolm’s sister, who had a recent unfortunate run-in with Buster Jay and was still in therapy for it, last I’d heard.
Malcolm shook his head, and again I got that buzzing sensation from him, like he was ready to just open up on all these dudes right now. Not good at all.
I took a chance and stepped in front of Malcolm and faced Trench Coat. “Look, friend. My buddy here has had a real bad month and is just this close to going off on some post-traumatic craziness. I don’t want anyone to get hurt.”
Trench stared at me and then past me toward Malcolm. “You gonna let this slip of a girl talk for you?”
Oh, crap. I sensed the power rush before I felt it, and, in the space of a heartbeat, I adjusted my control on the ley shield and shifted it to catch the fireball of energy Malcolm loosed toward Trench. I wrapped the threads around the fire and flexed my shield to contain the blast. There was another concussive burst of energy. This one knocked all of us off our feet and shattered the windows of the Suburban. I glanced back at Malcolm’s Mustang. I must have had the presence of mind to deflect the blast away from his car.

Amazon

 

About Jim Johnson:

Jim Johnson was born about the same time Apollo XII landed on the moon and shares a birthday with the Kindle. He is the author of the Pistols and Pyramids weird western series and the Potomac Shadows urban fantasy series. He's also written a bunch of other stuff in and around the SFF genres and pen and paper RPGs.

In rare moments when he's not writing or publishing, Jim plays board games and card games, eats more pizza than he really should, and makes a brilliant bowl of popcorn. He also likes to live dangerously by running last click.

Jim lives in Alexandria, VA with his wife, son, and three cats.

Website | Facebook | Goodreads | Author Central

Wednesday, July 20, 2016

Beacon's Spark (Potomac Shadows, Book 1) by Jim Johnson

Release date: July 22, 2016
Subgenre: Urban fantasy 

About Beacon's Spark: 

 

Twentysomething Rachel Farran dropped out of college after family pressures drove her to the edge. Now disowned by her parents, the only things going for her are her girlfriend, her bestie, and visits to her ailing grandpa, the only member of her family who even really likes her.

When Rachel stumbles into the mystical Veil separating the mortal and spirit worlds, her world is turned inside-out. She soon discovers that she is a Beacon, a descendant of the ancient Fates and a guide for lost souls who can manipulate magical ley threads. But when the malevolent being known as the Spinner harnesses the ley to drag helpless souls through the Veil to devour them, can Rachel learn to control her newfound abilities before her grandpa and many others are lost forever?

Beacon’s Spark is the first book in Potomac Shadows, a new paranormal fantasy series set in the Washington, DC metro area. 

Excerpt:


As we stared, transfixed, at the strange glowing tube on the other side of the still curtain, the arcs of energy started rippling from one side to the other of the tube and arced across each other. Every time one of them bounced across the gap, there was a flash of electric blue light and the lightest tickle of heat on my skin, like a static charge buzzing you when you’ve shuffled your stocking feet on certain kinds of carpet.
Malcolm glanced at me. “That’s an awful lot of power. I think we should get back.”
I couldn’t disagree and made to back away from the curtain of light. But my feet betrayed me.
I shot a glance toward Malcolm. “I can’t move!”
He tried to turn away from the curtain, but he too was held fast in place. “Now what do we do?”
I managed a shrug and stared toward the arcing bursts of light, which were now coalescing in the center of the tube, weaving together to create a dense ball of crackling energy. “Is that a weapon?”
The ball of light got larger and larger, and the crackling energy racing across its surface rippled faster. The sphere of energy started to morph. All I could do was watch in sick fascination. It was like a good movie special effect; a piece of CGI changing before my eyes. No trip to Branchwood had ever been this messed up.
Actually, no trip anywhere had ever been this messed up.
“What’s that? Do you see that?” I cried out.
A strange, warm wind picked up from out of nothingness and washed around us. Malcolm managed to push his arm around my shoulder and held me close. “I see it, I see it!”
As we both stared into the strange electric maelstrom, that bass humming started up again, and I managed to clap both hands to my ears. It was deafening, like the tunnel was a subwoofer and we were standing too close to the speaker at a heavy metal concert.
The bass hum reverberated through the tube and the doorway we were standing in, and shook the floor under our feet. I could feel my heart and my lungs heaving in time to the rhythmic pulse of the strange bass line. The headache I’d been nursing all morning returned with a vengeance, threatening to split my skull apart from the inside.
Some little part of my brain whispered “heart beat” but I couldn’t make much sense of it. The bass line was hammering into my mind, into my body, shaking me and Malcolm to the core.
The core of energy continued to morph, and I was transfixed on the thing, helpless to turn away. I braced myself as best I could, certain that the thing was going to blow up in my face.
What happened, though, threw me for even more of a loop. The ball of energy transformed into a face, a man’s long face with a cleft chin and a regal, hooked nose. His wide-set eyes were full of the gold-flecked blue electricity, and his head was nearly three feet tall. His features were like those of some sort of god—almost too perfectly perfect.
The face formed in full and stared at us with large, glowing golden eyes. The bass line hammered over and over, and then within a breath, suddenly stopped. There was a long moment of silence, and then the mouth in the face cracked open. It uttered one word.
“Away.”
And then everything did explode in my face.

Amazon

 

About Jim Johnson:

Jim Johnson was born about the same time Apollo XII landed on the moon and shares a birthday with the Kindle. He is the author of the Pistols and Pyramids weird western series and the Potomac Shadows urban fantasy series. He's also written a bunch of other stuff in and around the SFF genres and pen and paper RPGs.

In rare moments when he's not writing or publishing, Jim plays board games and card games, eats more pizza than he really should, and makes a brilliant bowl of popcorn. He also likes to live dangerously by running last click.

Jim lives in Alexandria, VA with his wife, son, and three cats.

Website | Facebook | Goodreads | Author Central

 

Monday, December 28, 2015

House of the Healer (Pistols and Pyramids, Book 3) by Jim Johnson

Release date: December 25, 2015
Subgenre: Weird western

About House of the Healer: 

 

The Scales Are Out of Balance

After surviving a brutal cultist attack on her village, Ruia led the other survivors to the safety of Fort Sekhmet with the help of Tjety, a Ranger of Mayat. With Tjety's life now hanging in the balance, can Ruia gather enough help and learn to use her newfound hekau magic to heal Tjety before the forces of darkness close in and snuff out all hope?

House of the Healer is the third episode in PISTOLS AND PYRAMIDS, a monthly series best described as an ancient Egyptian-themed weird western with magic. And mummies. Lots of mummies.

Excerpt:

 

Tjety cracked open his eyes, heavy with fatigue and pain, and squinted at parched earth and sun-blasted dunes that glimmered in the haze. A bleak smudge of clouds gathered on the horizon and crept toward him. His entire body was on fire, radiating more heat than even the glowing orb of the sun god, Re, beating down on him from on high.
He shivered in spite of the heat, blinked, and then found himself standing several feet away from his own body, which was sprawled out naked in the sparkling sand. His body was covered in cuts and scrapes and his right arm hung awkwardly, splintered by a cruel gunshot wound. A thin ribbon of silver connected his ba—his spirit—to his body.
He glanced down. He was in his ba-bird form—a hawk's body with his head rather than that of a hawk. His right wing was shattered, hanging limp against his body. Many of his feathers were damaged or missing, and he had numerous other small wounds, echoing the damage evident on his human form.
Tjety tried to flap his broken appendage, but all that did was shove a spear of pain into his mind that trailed down the gossamer-like strand of silver and crashed into his mortal body.
He stared at the drab wasteland all around him as cruel realization struck home. "Is this it? Have I fuckin' died and fallen in to the Duat?"
He frowned and focused on the silver thread connecting his ba-form to his body. If he had died, that thing should have been severed.
He puzzled it over, but a series of inhuman growls from somewhere deep in the wasteland around him broke his ragged concentration. He staggered around in his broken bird form, his shattered wing flapping helplessly. Horrifying shapes pulled from his bird form, his shattered wing flapping helplessly. Horrifying shapes pulled from his darkest nightmares—jackal-like creatures and massive undulating snakes—formed in the distance, uttered unearthly sounds, and started moving toward him.
Out of reflex and long practice, he went for his pistol, but his broken wing crashed against his body. He cried out in pain.
He made to draw his khopesh, but of course he wore nothing in this form. He then tried to gather strength from his hekau, to prepare a defensive spell, but the image of a dried-out watering hole flashed in his mind. He had nothing left—his wellspring of arcane energies was drained.
He backed away from the encroaching shapes, feeling his silver thread spool out, keeping his ba connected to his fragile mortal shell. The shadowy forms started to pick up speed, as if they smelled his blood and fear. He turned and ran as fast as his little bird legs could propel him, trying desperately to achieve some speed but fearing that he would be too slow, far too slow.

Amazon 

 

About Jim Johnson:

 Jim Johnson is the author of the Pistols and Pyramids series as well as other prose fiction series currently under development. He has written sundry other pieces of fiction, including several stories published in the Star Trek universe, and has freelanced for pen and paper roleplaying game companies, including Decipher and White Wolf. Please visit www.SCRIBEINETI.com for more information on Jim and his interests and writing.

Jim lives in historic Alexandria, VA with his wife, newborn son, and several crazy cats.

Website | Facebook | Goodreads | Author Central

 

 

Monday, November 23, 2015

Flight to the Fort (Pistols and Pyramids, Episode 2) by Jim Johnson

Release date: November 20, 2015
Subgenre: Weird western

About Flight to the Fort: 


The Scales Are Out of Balance
Tjety, an exiled Ranger of Mayat, and Ruia, a young fisherman’s daughter, team up to guide the survivors of a bandit attack through the dangerous and rugged Kekhmet frontier. Can they reach the safety of Fort Sekhmet before foul cultists and their horrible mummified creatures can capture them?

Flight to the Fort is the second episode in PISTOLS AND PYRAMIDS, an all-new monthly series best described as an ancient Egyptian-themed weird western with magic. And mummies. Lots of mummies.

Excerpt:

 

The man in dark robes sat astride his black mare, holding the reins in one hand, with his other hand cocked on the pommel of his sheathed blade. His headcloth was looped around his mouth and neck. He offered an open-handed greeting and then lifted his hand to remove the folds of the headcloth from his face, revealing a white-toothed smile creasing a deeply tanned face. He had a thin black mustache and a regal, hooked nose.
"Well met, Ranger of the south."
Tjety kept his pistol aimed somewhere around the man’s chest. “Give me one good reason I shouldn’t shoot you dead right here and now.”
The man’s smile never wavered as he held his horse still in front of Tjety. “Despite recent events,” he glanced at the two bodies to either side of him, “I have no quarrel with you. My House and your order have never encountered each other. Until now, anyway.”
Tjety frowned. “You know my order but I don’t know shit about yours.”
The man smiled as he tucked loose folds of fabric back into his headcloth. "My house name would mean nothing to you, Ranger. We are neither Kekhmet nor Hesso. But as a form of introduction, my name is Zezago, Deshi of the House of Gintenka.”
“Nice title, but it means fuck-all to me.” Tjety’s gun hand started to shake. “Why are you here?”
"Reasons well beyond your understanding."
Tjety's frown deepened. "All I know is your men sow destruction and discontent. You destroyed a village and caused many unnecessary deaths." He licked his lips, uncertain how much longer he could hold up his gun. "I expect you're also responsible for the creation of those monstrous, unliving...things."
The smile on the man's face had broadened at each point, which made Tjety quail inside. The man flexed his hands, then after a moment staring at him, dismounted.
"I accept responsibility for all those things, and many more you can’t possibly know." He stepped to the left of his horse and rested a hand on his sword's pommel again.
A bright flash from the man’s ba told Tjety that the man had some skill with hekau, almost certainly stronger than his own. Tjety reached out and took hold of Heker’s reins, and slowly started to sidestep toward the tree line. Zezago kept smiling and sidestepped as well, toward the river, countering Tjety’s movements.
"What would you do, knowing that I am responsible for all those deaths?"
Tjety heard the mocking tone in the man's voice, and knew that this would not end well. In a burst of movement, he raised his pistol and fired his last two rounds.


Amazon


About Jim Johnson:

 Jim Johnson is the author of the Pistols and Pyramids series as well as other prose fiction series currently under development. He has written sundry other pieces of fiction, including several stories published in the Star Trek universe, and has freelanced for pen and paper roleplaying game companies, including Decipher and White Wolf. Please visit www.SCRIBEINETI.com for more information on Jim and his interests and writing.

Jim lives in historic Alexandria, VA with his wife, newborn son, and several crazy cats.

Website | Facebook | Goodreads | Author Central

Thursday, November 5, 2015

Interview with Jim Johnson, author of the Pistols and Pyramids series


The Speculative Fiction Showcase welcomes Jim Johnson, author of the Pistols and Pyramids weird western series:


1. These days, most writers are glued to their laptops, tablets, and/or e-readers. A few still swear by print books and typewriters, the question is: Do you move at all?

I’m a flexible reader between print and ebook—I read fiction mostly in ebook format and read non-fiction mostly in print format. I read a lot of history books, and my Kindle Touch doesn’t display maps or pictures all that well, and a lot of non-fiction books aren’t formatted for a small screen. So I tend to read NF samples and if the book really grabs me, I’ll splurge on a print version. But fiction, I have only so much shelf space for paper books but endless storage space for ebooks, so I’ve been steadily transitioning my fiction library over to ebooks. A few authors I keep in print, though. Stephen King’s Dark Tower series, all of Katherine Kurtz’s Deryni series, etc.
As for writing, I’m so used to writing on the Alphasmart Neo, laptop, and desktop that I do very little hand-writing any more except for occasional notes and grocery lists (and even then I use Evernote for most of that). It’s kind of sad, really—I can barely read my own hand-writing any more.

2. Apple or PC?

PC, but I’m not a fanatic about it. I haven’t really looked into Apples because I’m pretty much a ‘if it works, why change it?’ kinda guy. I’ve had good luck with PCs over the years so I stick with PCs. I imagine if someone sat me down with an Apple and showed me how or why it’s better than a PC, I’d consider switching over, but for now, all I need for writing and publishing is on the PC.

3. Do you use Scrivener or Word?

Scrivener as much as possible and Word only to compile my manuscripts into .doc to send to editors. Once Scrivener adds in a good, robust track changes feature, I’ll probably kick Word to the curb.

4. Do you have any pets? Do they influence your writing?

I have three cats and have had multiple cats all my life. They definitely influence my writing in that they are a lot like readers—if they like you, they’ll let you know in no uncertain terms. And if they don’t like you, they’ll either ignore you or kick litter on you. If a writer can handle a cat’s bad attitude, they’ll be ready for the real world of readers and reviews.

5. Would you rather see your stories on the big screen or the little screen?

My writing brain is really geared toward telling serialized stories, so I think the small screen would be much better suited for my stories. I think there’s something more intimate about the small screen as well—you’re inviting that series and those characters into your home. As a writer, I want to make my stories and characters engaging enough that readers want to bring that book or those characters into their living spaces and spend some time with them.

6. Are you hooked on any science fiction or fantasy TV shows? If so, which one(s)?
Once I made more of a commitment to my writing, I’ve watched less television, and have missed most of the latest hot shows. I love Star Trek, so more often than not I’ll watch an episode or two of the original series, Next Generation, or Deep Space Nine rather than tune into the latest series.

7. Do you own copies of Peter Jackson’s Lord of the Rings DVDs? The extended version? Do you ever watch them?

Of course! Extended editions all the way, and I watch the series annually, plus most of the special features. I also try very hard to read the Lord of the Rings annually, but that’s a bit more of a time commitment than I can always make.

8. Have you seen the The Hobbit trilogy? 

Saw the first two movies in theaters but didn’t get a chance to see the third one. Waiting for the extended edition to come out and then I’ll watch the trilogy straight through. I’ll reserve judgment on the trilogy until I’ve had a chance to watch it all together. I liked the first two well enough, though I felt they were missing something.


9. Your Pistols and Pyramids series is a weird western mixed with Egyptian mythology. What was it that drew you to this particular subgenre? 

I love weird westerns because I love the concept of taking a genre and shaking it up a bit. Westerns plus magic or werewolves or vampires or unicorns to get weird western, or westerns plus technology to get steampunk, stuff like that. I love taking different elements from my mind map and seeing what happens when they’re slammed together, and when I slapped ‘ancient Egypt’ and ‘western’ together, something clicked.
As a writer, it’s so much fun to take a basic concept and then add layers to it to see what happens. I took the western core and added a magic layer, an ancient Egypt layer, a religion layer, and a few others, and so far the combination is keeping my muse active and happy. And the house of cards hasn’t collapsed yet, lol.

10. In addition to your weird western series, you've also contributed to several Star Trek anthologies. So what is it that you love about Star Trek? And which Star Trek series and/or movie is your favourite?

What draws me to Star Trek is the hopeful look at the future and the idea that humanity can move beyond most of the challenges we’re facing today. I don’t entirely agree with the money-less utopian society and don’t care for some of the technobabble handwavium, but there are so many elements of Star Trek that resonate with me—diversity, equality, the lifelong pursuit of self-improvement, global unity, etc.
Star Trek: Deep Space Nine is my favorite series hands-down (because great characters, serialized stories, the religion angle, depth), and I’d say Star Trek II: The Wrath of Khan is my favorite of the films.

11. Are you a Luddite? Or do you prefer to be on the bleeding edge of technology?

I lean toward Luddite, I guess. I have an Android smartphone and love it, but I haven’t bothered looking into tablets yet and I have yet to replace my Xbox 360. I’ve never been one to chase trends or to need the latest gizmo, so I tend to cautiously and casually adopt new technology.

12. Are you--or have you ever been--a gamer?

I’ve been a gamer for as long as I can remember. Roleplaying games, board games, card games, computer games, you name it. Currently playing a lot of FFG’s Star Wars RPGs, Android: Netrunner LCG, the Marvel Lego game on the Xbox, and assorted board games during a weekly game night with friends. I don’t game as much as I used to, though, mostly because I’m more committed to writing and publishing.

13. What kind of foods do you eat? Are you a health-food-nut or is it strictly junk?

Somewhere in between. I’m no Lola Granola, but I try to eat more greens than not and go easy on the meats and high-calorie food. That being said, sometimes you just gotta have a burger. Pizza’s my big vice. That and fruit flavor Chiclets gum.

14. Do you have a garden? Have you ever grown your own food?

I never developed a love for gardening, though my wife likes to. We don’t have a huge amount of space for a food garden, but have flowers and trees and such. We do frequent our local farmer’s markets, though. We’ll probably do some small box gardens next year and start composting.

15. Coffee or Tea or Water? Espresso, Drip, Instant, or French Press? Bag or Looseleaf? Bottled, Filtered, Tap or Rainwater?

Water mostly. My caffeine of choice is Cherry Coke Zero, though I do love a hot or iced chai. Never developed a taste for coffee, though I like how it smells.

16. Do you wear socks?

Only when I have to. I wear slippers at home and Tevas when it’s not bitterly cold.

17. Do you do your own laundry?

Yep, as well as my wife’s and my baby son’s. There are days I feel like all I do is laundry!

18. Does life fascinate you?

Constantly. Enough that I want to take real life experiences and fold them into my fiction. And now that my wife and I have a newborn, we’re discovering everything from a whole new perspective.

19. Do you do Yoga? Meditation? or Deep Breathing? Does it help you cope?

Nah, not really. I’ve had good experiences with yoga and meditation but usually don’t make the time for either practice. I’m pretty laid back most of the time anyway, but when I do get stressed out, I use my coping techniques (mostly deep breathing and centering) and then get on with the day.
I play djembe when I can and I find that relaxes me a lot as well as sparking a different part of the creative brain.

20. On a scale of 1-10, how eccentric are you?

Maybe somewhere around a 7 or 8 on crazy days? I like weirdness and often think about things in ways that make people wonder about my sanity, but I don’t think I’m really all that far off the mainstream.

21. What’s your astrological sign?

I’m a Scorpio through and through. I’ve read a lot of the descriptions of Scorpios online and in various books, and…yeah. Scorpio to the core; positive elements as well as the negative.

22. Do you consider yourself a slave to the muse?

Not really. I used to wait around for the muse to give me inspiration and then write, but more and more I get an idea and then whip the muse into getting to work.


About Jim Johnson:

 Jim Johnson is the author of the Pistols and Pyramids series as well as other prose fiction series currently under development. He has written sundry other pieces of fiction, including several stories published in the Star Trek universe, and has freelanced for pen and paper roleplaying game companies, including Decipher and White Wolf. Please visit www.SCRIBEINETI.com for more information on Jim and his interests and writing.

Jim lives in historic Alexandria, VA with his wife, newborn son, and several crazy cats.

Website | Facebook | Goodreads | Author Central

Wednesday, October 28, 2015

Ranger of Mayat (Book 1 of Pistols and Pyramids) by Jim Johnson

Release date: October 22, 2015
Subgenre: Weird Western

About Ranger of Mayat: 

 

The Scales Are Out of Balance

When Tjety, an exiled Ranger of Mayat, discovers a ransacked village along the lawless northern Kekhmet frontier, he marshals his training and divine hekau magic to hunt down the ruthless cultists responsible for the attack. But can he find them before their prisoners are twisted into mindless slaves serving a necromancer bent on shattering the tenuous balance between order and chaos?

Ranger of Mayat is the first episode in PISTOLS AND PYRAMIDS, an all-new monthly series best described as an ancient Egyptian-themed weird western with magic. And mummies. Lots of mummies.

Excerpt:

 

Thin lines of gray smoke slithered into the gloaming sky. As Tjety and Heker crested a slight rise in the hardscrabble road, the humble rooftops of at least twenty mudbrick buildings moved into view. The small village was tucked into a clearing set between the road and a wide bend in the river. It wasn’t hearth smoke coming out of chimneys or cooking pots—the buildings had been set afire.
Bodies lay scattered throughout the small village and near the river. Woven baskets of fish, no doubt the day’s catch, were strewn about, the contents rotten. Tjety rode closer into the village, senses alert and his mouth set in a firm line against the murder and waste on display.
A third gunshot rang out. A gangly man dressed in rough linens and leathers and a dirty homespun headcloth strode out of a house’s open doorway and then holstered his still-smoking revolver. The man spat into the street and then looked toward the village’s large conical storehouse. “Pashet! Uni! I’m done here. Let’s get moving.”
Two more hard-looking men stumbled out of the storehouse, their arms filled with baskets of foodstuffs and supplies. They were likewise dressed in rough riding leathers and plain headcloths.
Tjety gritted his teeth. Gods-damned clanless border brigands. He walked Heker along the far side of the village, careful to keep the burning mudbrick homes between him and the three bandits.
The older of the two looters called out. “Come an’ take yer fill, Meret. Stuff ain’t gonna last. Me an’ Uni got our shares.”
The gangly man, Meret, moved toward his allies and tossed them a few choice swear words in guttural Hesso. Tjety didn’t know the language well, but a quick flex of his hekau was enough for him to get the sense of the words.
Meret said, “We was told to finish off the villagers, Pashet, not loot the place. We gotta get the caravan moving before Master Deshi gets dirt all up in his nethers again.”
The youngest bandit, who by process of elimination had to be Uni, stumbled, which caused his precarious armload to topple over. Grain and assorted vegetables spilled onto the ground. He cursed at the mess and then gestured toward one of the dead villagers. “They ain’t gonna need it no more, Boss Meret. Ain’t no sense leavin’ it to spoil, yah?” He glanced at Pashet, as if seeking confirmation or reassurance from the older man.
As the three brigands fell to arguing, Tjety realized that surprise was on his side, right now. He gathered his reins in one hand and heeled Heker into a gallop. He gripped his pistol at the ready and tore around the buildings toward the bandits, crying out a wordless challenge.
The bandits were faster than he expected. Uni dropped the last of his stolen goods and went for his revolver, clearing the holster just as Tjety blasted two rounds into his chest. The young bandit crumpled to the ground, his pistol dropping from his grip as his mouth fixed itself into a silent “O” of surprise.
“Who the fuck are you?” Pashet cried out as he dropped his stolen booty and drew his revolver. He managed to get a wild shot off before Tjety’s next bullet caught him in the left shoulder and spun him around. Pashet staggered his way toward one of the nearby buildings.
Meret chose to dive into an open doorway, making Tjety suspect that perhaps he was the wisest of his little band.
As Tjety guided Heker through the village, he took careful aim toward Meret's cover, hoping for a clear shot, but the bandit didn’t present himself. Tjety wasn’t about to waste ammunition firing blindly.

 

Amazon

 

About Jim Johnson:

 Jim Johnson is the author of the Pistols and Pyramids series as well as other prose fiction series currently under development. He has written sundry other pieces of fiction, including several stories published in the Star Trek universe, and has freelanced for pen and paper roleplaying game companies, including Decipher and White Wolf. Please visit www.SCRIBEINETI.com for more information on Jim and his interests and writing.

Jim lives in historic Alexandria, VA with his wife, newborn son, and several crazy cats.

Website | Facebook | Goodreads | Author Central