Strange Omens
Legends Walk, #2
by Jim Stein
Date of Publication: January 11th 2019
Publisher: Jagged Sky Books
Cover Artist: Kris Norris
Genre: Urban Fantasy
Tagline: Who wins when gods interfere?
BLURB
Recent months in New Philadelphia have been pleasantly monster-free, allowing Edan Johnson to focus on launching the band’s new album. Music brought hope, something the world’s dwindling population desperately needed. But when a mysterious promotion company sends the A-Chords on tour and the audience splits into opposing factions, it’s clear that gods and dark forces are once again meddling.
Ed’s command of music and magic grows strong, but an arrogant goddess decrees he must not interfere. Even his own sister scolds him for casting spells. But Ed connects with the band’s free-spirited groupies and vows to keep them safe from the more sinister patrons flocking to “The Company’s” backstage events.
More hangs in the balance than the simple corruption of a few fans. These happy, bright people could be the salvation of the human race, yet are being drawn in like sheep. Someone or something stalks the tour, and evil lurks in the heart of Old Milwaukee.
Magic, monsters, and kindred spirits keep Ed and his friends scrambling to discover what’s going on behind the scenes, but an improbable friendship just might be the key to their survival.
Excerpt:
“What now, Ed?”
Trinity asked from my left.
We crouched
behind a rotting car covered in vines and watched the Grims. Bald Jim looked to
be in charge. Shawn sat on the ground at Dan’s feet, head hung low. The bruise
around his eye and dried blood on his lip testified to the fact he had gone
down fighting. Dan probably wore the Hawaiian shirt and posed as a victim.
Trinity had
enough sense to tail them without trying a rescue. We caught up to her just
before the Grims stopped at a massive bronze doorway totally at odds with the
architecture of the ruined city. The thing was better suited for a medieval
castle, though I had to admit it was effective. Jim and Dan argued over how
best to get inside.
“Five of them
and four of us,” I said.
“They’re
bruisers,” Quinn whispered. “No offense, but we couldn’t take any of them,
except maybe scraggly Dan.”
“Where’s it
lead?” Trinity asked.
Good question.
The out of place obstruction melded into the stone archway across a low
entrance to what might be a basement level. The arguing continued as Jim tried
an incantation. The door rebuffed his attempt. Oily bits of the magic
passphrase dripped to the ground. Though a simple spell, the darkness of it
differed from the elements Quinn and I used.
“You’re doing it
wrong,” Dan complained to the men gathered at the door.
“He’s such a
little shit.” Trinity’s lip curled.
“For once that’s
working in our favor,” Quinn said.
Dan stalked over
to the others, grabbed something small and metallic out of Jim’s hands, and
examined the door. Magic formed around another incantation. Shawn sat unguarded
at the entrance to the alcove. We scurried out from behind the car, circled the
intersection, and crept along crumbling brickwork. The line of the alley kept
us out of sight until I peeked around the corner. The Grims argued on, ignoring
their dejected captive. Shawn stared at the pavement.
“Shawn.” No
response. “Shawn! Time to go.”
Bleary eyes
ringed with bruises met mine. He must have taken a good shot to the nose for
double shiners to be rising so quickly. Recognition slowly dawned, followed by
half a smile that dropped away. Shawn held up his hands. I’d missed the thin
cord that bound wrists to ankles. It was silvery gray, looking more like yarn
than rope.
“For crying
out…” Quinn whipped out a knife and crept forward.
The moment her
blade touched the cord, there was a flash. Quinn yelped and dropped her knife.
“Hey!” Dan
looked up from the brass key in his hand.
“Just grab him!”
I shouted.
Quinn hauled
Shawn up by his armpits and pushed him forward. The cord forced him into an
awkward half-crouch. I grabbed his arm to haul him down the street, but he
stopped short and fell to the ground. Quinn and I pulled but couldn’t budge
him. No one weighed that much. The cord flashed and flared, its strange power
anchoring Shawn to the spot. More than that, a tether of power slowly dragged
him back toward the doorway as the Grims advanced.
“Leave him. In fact,
leave the girl. Two for the price of one!” Dan grinned his stupid parody of a
Bright’s smile.
Each man carried
a small club, undoubtedly weighted for maximum punch. Quinn worked at the
bindings. Her strange watery power flowed along the cord looking for a way to
loosen the knots. The Grims strode forward, in no hurry and—I like to
think—wary. I could have taken Dan and the freak sporting a Mohawk. But I’d
spent all year practicing my spells for a reason.
I reached for
Earth to throw up a barrier and buy us time. Just as I was about to cast,
flames leapt up between us and the men, effectively sealing them in the alcove.
Trinity stood rigid, locked in concentration as she poured on more Fire and
drove them back amid squawks of protest.
“Let me try.” I
hunkered down to examine the cord.
Earth was ready
at my fingertips, but when I tried to manipulate Shawn’s binding—as I would
stone or metals—there was no purchase. The men tried end runs around Trinity’s
flames, holding the woman’s concentration and forcing her to expend too much
power. Another minute and we’d have to carry her out. Quinn saw it too.
“Help her!”
I dredged up a
bit of old-school metal, Metallica’s “Seek and Destroy,” forging Fire to
bolster Trinity’s spell. I split off a portion to attack the ropes. Fire was an
enigma, representing the most restorative and destructive of the elements. I
honed the lyrics down to a laser focus, emphasis on the destroy part of the
tune to cut and burn. The cord swelled, resisting the heat, but frayed edges
soon curled away from the core.
Shawn’s
invisible bond contracted, yanking him toward the wall of fire. Quinn grabbed
him around the waist but was dragged along. Even if Trinity and I cancelled our
spells, they would be pulled across searing concrete into the midst of the
waiting Grims.
Author Info
Jim Stein’s hunger for stories transporting the reader to extraordinary realms began under one meager bulb, a towel stuffed beneath his door to avoid parental censure. He huddled with Tolkien, Asimov, and all the greats and unknowns plucked from the drugstore shelves to spin tales of the imagination.
After writing short stories in school, two degrees in computer science, and several decades as a Naval officer, Jim has returned to his first passion. He writes speculative fiction advocating the underdog and embracing protagonists with strong moral fiber, often overlaid with supernatural elements and a few dark twists. Jim lives in northwestern Pennsylvania with his wife, Claudia, and his muse, Marley the Great Dane.
The Book Junkie Reads Interview with Author Jim Stein
How would you describe you style of writing to someone that has never read your work? I write in the fantasy and science fiction genres, and tend to keep my writing on the casual side. I like to develop worlds and characters using the iceberg method. There’s enough description to set things up (the part visible above the surface) and hand over the job of filling in details to the reader’s imagination (the rest of the berg you know is under water.) That’s one of the reasons I steer away from covers with face-on character shots. As a reader, I like to build a picture of the players in my mind’s eye and it’s always jarring when that disagrees with the cover art, which I think it usually will. My stories are meant to capture the imagination and transport the reader, basically providing escapism from the daily grind. I don’t like to pound home social commentary, but will always have a subset of characters striving to do and be their best and accepting of others.
What mindset or routine do you feel the need to set when preparing to write (in general whether you are working on a project or just free writing)? My general mindset needs to silence my inner critic. That guy has kept me staring at a blank page on way too many occasions. I roll over him by setting daily goals and using sprints when the going (or starting) gets tough. As a goal driven person, I want to succeed at tasks and that usually slaps duct tape over Mr. Critical so I can get pen to paper. I mostly work from an outline and have that handy to provide a general sense of where the next scene or arc is heading. Without that tool, sprints and word count goals don’t work as well for getting me writing.
Do you take your character prep to heart? Do you nurture the growth of each character all the way through to the page? Do you people watch to help with development? Or do you build upon your character during story creation? To an extent, yes, a little, and yes again. For character prep, I outline the main characters and try to plot their relationship to each other. Sometimes, I write up a short bio or backstory. I’ve found a little first person exposition from antagonists can be particularly helpful in keeping away from two-dimensional bad guys and gals. But I have limits and get bored if there’s too much prep. So rather than take every person, magical creature, and animal that appears in the script to the nth detail, I’ll also develop them as I go. Sometimes I end up stopping mid-story to do a character sketch or bit of interview to get my bearings, but doing that all up front is just too mind-numbing for me. I do take characteristics from observation, but think this is more of a second-hand effect. I don’t sit down and people watch with a goal in mind, but when I’m casting about for a mannerism or way of thinking for a character, I often draw on something I’ve seen in others. I definitely build on the characters’ traits, personalities, and back stories as I go in an effort to avoid information dumps. My goal is for the reader to gain better insight as the story unfolds and they get to know the players.
Have you found yourself bonding with any particular character? If so which one(s)? Oddly, I’ve found I’m a sucker for supernatural beings and animals. Max in my Legends Walk series is a big black doofus of a dog based loosely on our Great Dane Marley. Max tends to convey gobs more than he should be able to, just like your dog at home. I’ve found him to be fearless and loyal, almost to a fault. Those that read the stories will see what I mean. Max was picked up as a stray in book one, but plays a much expanded role in book two.
Do you have a character that you have been working on that you can't wait to put to paper? My son came up with a story concept that I’ve outlined and been dying to get to. It’s a futuristic science fiction setting where a man can use memories as weapons, but in doing so loses them. Early on he’s triggered as a kind of doomsday device and wakes up having lost nearly all his memory and must set off on a quest to find himself.
Have you ever felt that there was something inside of you that you couldn't control? If so what? If no what spurs you to reach for the unexperienced? Tough one! We all have uncontrollable aspects and urges, that’s part of what makes us human. The question becomes which ones do we choose to control and which do we nurture. I am not an inherent thrill seeker, so my own exploration of new experiences might appear dull to the more adventurous. I tend to get a thrill visiting places where I can imagine few others have been before. Be it walking the wooded trails around our small town, poking the kayak down a tributary, jumping across the rocks of west coast tidal pools, or hiking above Garmisch in a vain attempt to reach the snowline in July (no I didn’t make it, but damn I was close and found this whimsical drinking station)—these are the kinds of things I indulge in when unconstrained.
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