Don't Cross This Line (The Kurtherian Gambit Book 14)

by Michael Anderle

  With a vengeance.

  All leading up to The Dark Messiah Series and Michael’s return. Michael has a promise to fulfill, and Death wasn’t going to keep him from fulfilling his promise.

  Because his Honor requires it.

  By the end of 2017, I will have released eleven (11) more books. Seven (7) in The Kurtherian Gambit (Bethany Anne) series and four (4) in the Second Dark Ages (Michael) series.

  I will be collaborating on another eleven (11) (minimum) books from these authors and perhaps a couple more (J.L. Hendricks for Romance stories between books 13 and 14). I am finishing one with Paul C. Middleton for The Boris Chronicles and he will release a fourth second quarter 2017.

  So, stay with us if you would, as we bring Justice, Friendship and all around BadAssery to stories, to each other as the Indie Publishing Outlaw pulls out his Jean Dukes Specials and tips his hat up with the barrel.

  Telling those who believe they know best about what readers want, “You sure about that? Because if you aren’t, why don’t you take a sit right where you are at, and let us tell you a new story in The Kurtherian Universe.”

  As we move from 25,000 fans to 100,000 and beyond. Kicking Ass and Taking Names all along the way!

  THANK YOU ALL!

  Michael Anderle

  Next: Snippet Preludes for Don’t Cross This Line (read this for a good laugh)

  About the New Collaborations

  Justice is Calling Intro (Reclaiming Honor Book 01)

  Book cover reveal

  KIEL - TKG Art

  ROYLEEN - TKG Art

  So, here is the background on the latest Pre-Snippet…Snippets!

  During the production of each book, I will post snippets - small pieces of the book (in order, starting at the front) up on my website. I usually start this about 2-3 weeks before the book release and stopping a couple of days before the release.

  Each time I do this, I usually make up a two or three sentence little fun blurb to go with it that have previously been non-sensical.

  Except this time.

  This time, for whatever reason, I did this introducing Snippet #02 for Don’t Cross This Line.

  The intrepid author stands on his tippie toes, looking over the fence. His eyeballs just showing their whites as he looks left, then right down the street...

  He tosses the snippet over the top of the fence and runs like ...

  Now, when it came time for Snippet #03 to go out, I didn’t have anything non-sensical to say again, so I decided to continue the story of “The Author.”

  Here is the intro to Snippet #03:

  The author sneaks out of his dark writing basement, a couple of pages of writing secreted on his body as he stealthily moves in the shadows.

  He checked the video input, no one was waiting around his house as he made it to his digital mail box and shoved the regular paper into it and then bolted back to his door, slamming it as he breathed hard.

  "I've got to start working out..." He wheezed.

  Outside, his wife pulled the paper's out of the digital mailbox and stuck them in the regular mail box.

  "Authors," she said as she walked up to the front door of the house and went to their room.

  Now, in this continuation of the snippet stories, it is almost twice as long, but it introduces a very important character, The Author’s Wife.

  Now, I’ve created some beloved characters in the books and I’m kinda liked by my fans as well. But, for some reason, The Author’s Wife became a freaking fan favorite for those reading the snippets.

  Here, she shows up again for the intro to Snippet #04:

  The author, his heart pounding in his chest, inched up through the grass on his belly.

  The grass was cut to a height of ... 3 inches.

  It tickled his nose and he was trying desperately to stifle a sneeze. The air was humid for this time of year and too hot. He eyed the height of the massive wall, something King Kong would scale and pushed forward his catapult holding the snippet ready. He hit the small lever and turned, running back to the safety of his writing lair.

  Never seeing that the snippet flopped to the ground two feet in front of the small, hand-built catapult and safely on this side of the fence.

  His wife, noticing the antics from the kitchen window, shook her head and walked out to the yard.

  Reaching down, she picked up the round piece of paper and tossed it over the fence. Grabbing the popsicle stick contraction she walked back into the house muttering to herself.

  What the hell was he thinking?

  Damn! In the last snippet, I created the beginning of a monster I didn’t realize was coming up to bite me on the ass. Until the Facebook fans started chatting about her.

  So, I’m kind of a people pleaser sort of guy. So, since the readers were enjoying The Author’s Wife, I decided to give them MORE of the author’s wife. Because, more of what they like is a good thing, right?

  Right?

  Fuck My Life!

  Here is the intro to Snippet #05 (Written Oct 28th, right before Halloween).

  The doorbell went off. The intrepid author looks out from the door leading down to his writing lair.

  No one was answering the door.

  DING DONG!

  The writer's head stuck out further and looked around. No one was coming to the door. Resigned, he grabs the latest snippet from his back pocket and tip-toes up to the door. Breathing in and out heavily, stealing himself, he grabs the door handle and yanks it open, tossing the papers outside he yells, eyes closed from fear, "HERE YOU GO!" and slams the door, fumbling for the lock before he finally opens one eye to see and turns the door lock before scrambling back to the stairs.

  The author's wife hears the front door slam, pulls off her EarPods and looks up to the front of the house from her position sitting on the couch, "Now what the ..." Next, she hears thumps of her husband's feet bounding down the stairs before she hears an 'oh SHIT!' and then a slam and another couple of thumps.

  She puts her head on her hands and shakes them. She hears him get up again and close the bottom door to the stairs.

  DING DONG.

  The author's wife gets up from the couch and walks to the front door, pushing the stairs door closed on her way past.

  Silly man.

  Opening the door, she looks down to see young children dressed in Halloween costumes. A tiny little cute Spongebob Squarepants and an Angel.

  "TRICK OR TREAT!" they call out, eyes excited with the promise of more loot.

  His wife snags some candy from the bowl beside the door and notices the papers laying on the ground.

  "Here you go, you two are so adorable!" she tells the two children as she fills up their Halloween bags.

  The two children thank her and leave. Shaking her head, she steps out on the porch and grabs the papers. Going back into the house, she walks through to the backyard, continuing to the fence and chucking the snippet papers over the top before turning back towards the house.

  "Sometimes, I wonder why I married that man," she mumbles on her way back to the house.

  "Oh yeah," she replies out loud, cleaning her feet before going back inside. She answers herself as she sits down to finish the work she brought home.

  "He has a cute butt."

  That was it…That was the fateful snippet intro that caused The Author’s Wife to rise above and become a solid fan favorite…Maybe. Or, it could be that any woman who has to put up with an author automatically gets the vote.

  The Author was relegated to second place…not even a close second..more of a ‘go sit on the stairs going into the basement’ sort of second place.

  Now, we get to the intro to Snippet #06:

  The Author's wife closed the door to the garage, "Honey, I'm home," she called out. She went into the bedroom and took off her shoes, "Ooooh," she practically moans, "that feels so good!"

  Taking off her earrings, she sets them on her jewelry dresser when she hears this low...groaning?

  She sta
rts to pull off her watch when she hears it again. "Honey?" She calls out again.

  But, no answer.

  There! The moaning happens once more. She looks around and grabs a stick the boys were playing with and opens the bedroom door. The sound is coming from the front of the house.

  She holds the stick in front of her, like a sword, ready to beat the shit out of anyone, or anything, that shouldn't be in her house.

  "Honey?" She calls out, but her voice cracks, just a little. She steps around the corner, stick raised to bring it smashing down on the intruder... and then relaxes.

  She walks towards the front door, using the stick to prod the body laying on the floor, little candy wrappers laying all over the place.

  It was the scene of a Great Candy Massacre, she thinks.

  The perilous beast, who was supposed to be writing his next book, was in mortal agony after eating so many damned Butterfingers and Snickers.

  "Just kill me," he moans, never opening his eyes.

  "Trust me," she tells him, "I'm still tempted. You scared me!"

  He moves, just a little, to pull some papers out of his pocket, "Would you give these to my fans? They, they deserve something before I die of chocolate overload..."

  The Author's wife reaches down and takes the snippets from him. She raises the stick, but pulls it down and uses it to point at him. "If I come back and you are sick on my floor, I'm using this stick to whack you silly!"

  The author turns over, his cheek feeling the coolness of the ceramic tiles, "Deal," he agrees. Then, he closes his eyes seeking the blessed relief passing out might bring.

  Oh yeah, never learning, I only exacerbate my problem by continuing to show how The Author’s Wife has to put up with the Author.

  One fan asked me what my wife thinks about these snippets. I explain she doesn’t read them. The next morning, I share with my wife the question and she responds (as she is getting ready for work that morning) “I don’t have to read them, I live them.”

  Which leads us to the intro to Snippet #07 where for some insane reason, I drive the sympathy vote completely home by making The Author out to be some sort of messed up Tim the Tool Man sort of character (not true, honest!):

  Intro to Snippet #07:

  The Author took his snippet, and a crossbow he purchased from the neighbor's garage sale down the street, to his son's bedroom up on the second story.

  Thankfully, his kids were still at school today. He walked over and unlocked the window and pushed it open.

  Turning around he took two paces and then turned to face the window. Sitting down, he took the tightly rolled up snippet and laid it in in the place where the bolt would go.

  He considered his theory. Snippet in bolt location, lay down on ground and lift crossbow. Aim out window and fire.

  What could go wrong?

  Seemed easy enough for the author, so he laid back and aimed in the middle of the opened window, the fence line should be easy for the snippet to cross.

  Ignoring that little buzzing in the back of his mind, he confirmed his aim and pulled the trigger.

  WINDOW SCREEN!

  The loud "FWAPP" hit his ears as the snippet nailed the screen and both screen and snippet fell out of the window sill.

  SHIT SHIT SHIT! The author set the cross bow to the side and crawled on his hands and knees quickly to the window and peeked out.

  He let out a sigh of relief. The screen and the snippet were still on the little roof beneath the window. He would just need to lean out and snag it.

  ---

  The Author's wife had her leg's kicked back. She needed to be on a late evening call with Japan, so she came home early to do a little work. In the back of her mind, she recognized the footsteps going up the stairs.

  That was safe. It was when her husband went outside that bad stuff seemed to occur.

  A minute later, she jumped unexpectedly when she heard a loud "FWAPP." Looking around, she was stuck trying to figure out if that noise came from her house, or maybe from a neighbors?

  She was looking outside when she heard some scrapping from above and to the left. She was in time to see her husband half leaning out of the window, trying to grab something.

  She yelled, hoping her voice would reach upstairs, "Sweetheart, what are you doing?"

  "One second, snippet!" He called out, apparently not aware she was watching him.

  "Stop leaning out like that! You are going to..."

  Too late! She closed her eyes when he reached one little bit too far and she heard an "Oh fuuuu..." and a 'badoomp' and finally "dgge".

  Opening her eyes, fearing the worst, she noticed her husband holding up a piece of paper in the air, waving it like it was a flag of surrender in the middle of a huge pile of leaves, only his arms and one foot visible.

  "Snippet," his muffled voice said.

  She sighed and walked to the back door, "I'm going to kill that man."

  By now, I’m being pushed ahead on the tsunami of emotions the fans have for the Author’s Wife. I tell my sweet dear heart all about the fans loving The Author’s Wife character and she just rolls her eyes.

  It’s like she doesn’t believe me all the time, or something. I keep telling her I’m going to do “I heart Author’s Wife.” T-shirts or something and she doesn’t believe me.

  Finally, it’s time to come up with another idea and I think, “What would my wife do if I had just fallen out of a second story window but need to get another snippet out?”

  The IMMEDIATE internal response (you know, the kind that comes to you from the second voice in your head?) Is “she would drug me.”

  FML…Once more!

  Now, we go to Snippet #08:

  The author was fidgeting with his food. The dinner his wife cooked was amazing, it was his favorite Italian meal.

  Perhaps a little carb heavy (it was making him sleepy) but other than that?

  Delicious.

  Now, if he could just execute on his plan to get the snippet out of his pocket and over the fence, he would be golden.

  "Sweetheart, why don't you have a little more tea?" she poured him a refill.

  "Thank you my love," he replied, but looked at her funny as he took a drink. She was being too easy going this evening. Did she know he was planning on making a run for the fence tonight?

  Naaahhh. She didn't keep up with his schedule, or exactly what he did with the books.

  He took another bite of the lasagna, his eyes drooped.

  "Here sweetheart, let me grab your plate." She took the fork out of his hand.

  He turned, trying to figure out why she had grabbed his fork. He had lasagna still on his plate, didn't he?

  Was it desert time, already? Wow, desert sounded like a good idea before trying to brave the thirty-five feet of well manicured 3" tall grass all the way to the fence. Then, chunking the two sheets of paper over that damned insurmountable bastion.

  His vision screwed up. He saw his wife coming towards him, smiling in pity, but with a pillow, not a piece of chocolate cake.

  Because, DAMN! Chocolate cake after Italian food would be the ultimate way to screw up his courage to get this done.

  He just needed to blink this damned sleep...this damned...

  The Author's wife slid the pillow where his plate had been sitting a few moments ago. The author's head nodded twice before landing square in the center of the pillow. His soft, sleepy breathing confirming the sedative she put in his drink was working as planned.

  She reached into his back pocket and took out the snippet. Then, she reached behind him and grabbed a small blanket from where she had stashed it earlier.

  Placing it around his shoulders, she turned down the light in the dining room.

  "Sorry sweetheart," she patted him on his head. "There is no way I'm risking whatever brainless idea you had to get this over the fence this evening."

  She walked to the back door and turned to see his baby face resting on the pillow. "You will wake up in twenty minutes, and the
n I'll give you that chocolate cake you wanted."