A jackhammer on steroids

Hawk's Hog
Image credit: timmsharley.com

The Eight Sentences:

The sound of a jackhammer on steroids from the front parking lot interrupted their attempt at a conversation. Next, they heard the popping sound of a small caliber pistol.

“Was that an Uzi?” asked Dryden.

“Fuckin’ A, followed by return fire from a toy gun,” said Scully.

They both drew their weapons and began to move to vantage points to observe the action out front. Dryden, in a stage whisper, said, “You mean a Glock, right?”

“Yep, Mattel -- Barbie and Ken.”

Outside, they could see a 379 pound man on his side behind a Harley-Davidson Electra Glide as he slammed a loaded magazine into his Glock 9 mm semi-automatic pistol.

The Setup:

    A previous snippet introduced the League of Old Men and now here they are in action. For this assignment they met at the Mountain Empire Airport (what a cool name! Watch for a blog on this.) in Virginia. The big guy on the Hog is Hawk Barger, relative of  Sonny Barger, one of the Hell's Angels at the infamous Altamont Free Concert. I'll blog about that one soon, too.

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Bonus:

Hear how an Uzi sounds.

The League of Old Men -- Part 2

The Eight Sentences:

 The sidewalk leading up to the street was broken and uneven. Grass and tall weeds made homes of the cracks. Poison ivy grew up the side of an exterior wall, rooted somewhere between a window and the brick veneer wall.

But the interior was another story.

Image copyright 2007 FCEtier

The floors were worn but clean. It was clear that the kitchen and dining area had been used recently and frequently. A mahogany bar hosted a row of bar stools from another era. The back counter was stocked with bourbon and scotch.

The American flag stood proudly with an eagle decoration atop the wooden staff.

The Back Story:

Last week's snippet was my first dealing with the League of Old Men. Today, we visit their meeting hall.
This will be my last excerpt on this eclectic group who will make their debut in my third book, A Year Without Killing.

These guys will turn up again in my fourth book, Transfer the Dragon. They will be joined in this adventure by the talented and feisty members of the Presidents Club.

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I'll have a glass of chianti, please.

The Eight Sentences: 

Louella said, “Bye bye, now,” and lowered the receiver of her vintage 1963 telephone onto its cradle. She went into the kitchen and selected her favorite glass from the cabinet over the sink. One of these days, I’ll splurge and get a wine stem. This glass the Welch’s grape jelly came in is fine for now. She poured it half full of Bell’Agio Chianti, held it to her nose and looked back at the bottle. Hmm...vintage 2012. Oh well, two tears in a bucket.

By the time she was settled into her recliner, the glass was almost empty.

The Back Story: 

In this scene from my third novel (a WIP, A Year Without Killing) Mrs. Johnson is back at home after a mugging and purse snatching. She's safe but upset. She was the recipient of the good deed from Claudia Barry, mentioned in THIS BLOG a few weeks ago.

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"Too much of anything ain't good for you."

The Eight Sentences:

When I hear the term, “infodump,” the first name that comes to mind is that of the late author, Tom Clancy. Others who fit into that category include James Michener and Michael Crichton. No doubt readers can rattle off the names of other authors whom some feel provide “more information than I want to know.”

On the other end of the technology spectrum for a writer, simply saying, “The woman shot her gun,” is not sufficient to stand alone. Readers deserve more.

How much more?

It depends.

Just a ounce of details can produce a ton of credibility.

The Set  Up:

An excerpt from my third novel, a work in progress titled, A Year Without Killing, appeared in this BLOG and introduced a technical topic. It was unnecessary to go into great detail, just give the reader the basics so they would understand that my main character applied a learned skill out of habit.
I was inspired by a comment to write a blog about "infodump."

These eight sentences come from that blog.

The title is a quote from my late father, my most frequent source of inspiration.

Dad and me.

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I did a good deed today.

The Eight Sentences

His smile brought her a sense of calm and a reassurance of safety as it always had.

She leaned forward to push her chair back and stand to greet him.

He waved it off, “Keep your seat. You look so comfortable, Claudia, the epitome of self confidence and bliss. Your smile is radiant.”

“Am I smiling? It must be because I did a good deed today.”

Debert nodded understanding, and returned the smile.

The Back Story

When in Manhattan, visit this great pub. It's right across the
street from Penn Station. 

Mr. Debert (DAY'-bear) is Claudia's muse and confidant. They often meet at her favorite Irish pub when she's in NYC, the tir na nOg. This conversation occurs about a half hour after her altercation with the mugger (from last week's excerpt.)

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A Year Without Killing

The Eight Sentences 

An African-American woman who appeared to be in her late sixties stepped onto the sidewalk and walked towards Claudia. That woman’s about my age, Claudia thought.

Then it happened.

Penn Station - across the street from where this scene
 occurs. Image Source: hereandnow.wbur.org

A tall skinny male Goth stepped into the black woman’s path. He grabbed the strap on her purse and jerked it from her grasp. His next decision was one of the worst of his life. He ran right into the path of a semi-retired assassin with a sense of justice.

As he passed, Claudia Barry stepped into his path and delivered a forearm to make Anthony Munoz proud.

The Back Story 

       A Year Without Killing is a work in progress and will be the third in my series of novels known as the "Barry-Hixon Conspiracy."  This is the sequel to my first book, The Tourist Killer, which ends with professional assassin Claudia Barry beginning a twelve month leave. She had planned to retire, but was convinced by her assigner to take some time off before making the final decision.

       Today's excerpt shows how difficult it will be to take off from work. It's from Chapter One.

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