by Sean Little
The Cockney was trying to rebound, trying to pluck himself off the floor. The rest of the bar had grown deadly silent. Every eye in the room was on Clarke, and all they knew was that Clarke had dropped their crewmate with a single punch and was stealing money off the pool table. Clarke took two steps backward. “Just stay down, friend. Don’t make this ugly.”
Clarke took another step backward and butted up against something large and firm. He knew it wasn’t a wall. Judging the fact that it had to be something mobile—it was a man. A very large man. Clarke could smell the heavy scent of whale guts.
“You’re in for it now, mate,” said the Cockney. He spat blood on the floor.
Clarke held up his hand. Everyone froze. Clarke said, “Let me guess: Maori?”
The whaler nodded.
Clarke sighed and hung his head. Of course it was a Maori. Of the ten best ass-kickings Nicodemus Clarke ever received, seven of them had been administered by Maori. For some reason, the remote island of New Zealand grew hulking warriors who seemed to be immune to pain. They took to the Western diet heavy with beef, mutton, and poultry when the British Crown expanded to that part of the world, and all the extra proteins turned them into giants. With New Zealand being an island nation, the Maori were good on the sea and when whaling became profitable, many Maori found employment as harpooners. They were fearless and tough as ironwood.
Clarke turned around and looked up into the face of six-and-a-half feet of Maori warrior. The man had long, black hair pulled into a ponytail that jutted from the top of his head. His face was adorned with intricate facial tattoos, the tā moko. A series of lines and whorls adorned his right cheek. His shoulders were bare, favoring the sleeveless canvas shirt of the whaling crews. The tā moko continued down his right shoulder to the elbow, a web of black tribal lines.
“Good day,” said Clarke. “Perhaps you’ll let me pass?”
“You owe us money,” the Maori said.
“I won it fair and square. If you have an issue with that, maybe take it up with your pal.”
“I don’t think so,” said the giant. “Maybe I take it up with you. If Tuddy says you cheated, maybe you cheated. What do you think about that?”
Clarke knew that unloading everything he had into the Maori’s jaw would probably just piss the giant off. “Is there any outcome to this that doesn’t end with you tossing me through that window behind you?”
The Maori thought for a moment. “Probably not.”
“And if I put my fist upside your head a few times, the rest of the…gentlemen—and I am using that term in the loosest of meanings—in the bar will join in the fight and I’ll probably get jolly-stomped like a Quaker in an infantry charge, right?”
“Sounds about right,” agreed the Maori.
“Then I guess we will just have to get it over with, won’t we?” Clarke’s right flashed out and smashed the Maori’s chin. The behemoth’s head snapped to the side, but the right hook didn’t even wobble him. Clarke’s fist flared with pain.
The smile never left the Maori’s face. “I guess we do it the hard way.” He reached out and grabbed Clarke by the lapels with hands the size of grizzly paws. Then he spun to the side and chucked Clarke through the large window at the front of the Broken Harpoon like a sack of lentils.
…to be continued.
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Acknowledgements
This is always my most favorite and least favorite page to write in any of my books. I enjoy doing it because I get to thank everyone that helped me with the monumental task of hucking another book out to the masses. It is my least favorite task because I will inevitably forget someone and then feel badly that I forgot him or her.
If I have done this to you on this book or on any of in the past, please accept my apologies. It wasn’t on purpose. Come find me, and I will buy you a taco to make it up to you.
I also worry that this section won’t be good or interesting. I’ve read many of these acknowledgement sections. Sometimes they’re flat. Sometimes they’re funny. Sometimes there are inside jokes. I enjoy reading this section in every book I’ve ever read, so I feel a lot of pressure to write something at least halfway interesting.
This book, first and foremost, is dedicated to my good buddy Eric Larson. Eric is the creative force behind TeslaCon™ and one of the more colorful people I’ve ever met in my life. I shared an office with him for more than two years and I hardly ever got anything done when he was around because he is simply the greatest storyteller I’ve ever seen. While this story is my brainchild, I’m just playing in his sandbox. I came up with the story idea and the characters outside of Eric’s “Lord Bobbins,” but his input, advice, direction, and occasional joke was invaluable.
While I’m in that sandbox, I would like to thank the fans and attendees of TeslaCon™ who were so very supportive and excited for this book when it was first announced. I hope you enjoy it. This is for you and your passion for the genre and the convention itself.
I have to thank my beta-readers, the people who chipped in opinions to help me make this book better. Specifically, that boils down to Jack Quincey and Ethan Bartlett.
I want to thank Joanne and the whole cast and crew at Mystery to Me, my favorite bookstore in Madison—hell, in the world. They let me come in and pretend to be a writer on occasion, and I’m very grateful that they do. If you’re ever down by Camp Randall in Madison, Wis. head up Monroe Street and stop by to say hello to them. Pick up a few books. Support your local bookstores. Read more.
I want to thank all the other authors whom I have read and enjoyed lately: Alex Bledsoe, Craig Johnson, Maddy Hunter, Sam Sykes, and Sebastien de Castell. Your books have been greatly appreciated. I also want to thank Bill Lawrence. I watched many Scrubs reruns while I wrote and edited this book, and they never failed to make me laugh—even the episodes I’d seen dozens of times. If Bill ever needs a writer for a show, I’d take that job in a second.
I have to thank my parents, John and Dee Little, for making me read books. Books and reading were always valued at my house. I knew that if I found something worth reading at the Waldenbooks (remember those?) we frequented when I was a kid they would usually get it for me if I asked. We also made many trips to the public library in Mount Horeb where I grew up. I was encouraged to read everything I wished, and I have.
I have to thank my sister, Erin, for playing a lot of Diablo III with me while I was writing (or…not writing) this book. If you ever need help procrastinating with something, get in touch with Erin on the PS4 and she will help. My buddy, Dusty Miller, was in on a lot of that procrastination, too. You couldn’t ask for two better people to frequently distract you from a massive undertaking and make fun of you for your video game and personal shortcomings at the same time.
Finally, I have to thank my wife, Kaija, and my daughter, Annika (a.k.a. Midgey, a.k.a. Junior Ranger), for letting me play writer once more. I will do the dishes now, I promise. Or not. Maybe I’ll just start a new book. Sorry for being at the computer so much.
Sun Prairie, Wisconsin
August, 2017
About the Author
Sean Patrick Little lives in Sun Prairie, Wisconsin. He writes a lot. He watches too much TV. He plays guitar and bass badly. He has two cats that annoy him a lot. He has a dog, a Heeler/Corgi mix, who demands constant belly rub
s. He has a wife and a child.
That child is soon to be a teenager. Please send help.
You can follow Sean on Goodreads, Twitter, and Facebook if you are interested in keeping up with his upcoming projects. He’s not hard to find.
He’s not terribly exciting, but he enjoys the attention all the same.
Other Books by Sean Patrick Little
The Centurion: The Balance of the Soul War
The Seven
Longrider: Away From Home*
Longrider: To the North*
The Bride Price*
Without Reason*
After Everyone Died
All books are available on your favorite online retailers. Hard copies can be ordered online or through your favorite independent bookstore.
*E-book only
Publisher’s Note
The world of publishing grows more and more competitive every year. It is harder and harder for small press and independent books to compete in a crowded marketplace. There are only so many books, so many readers, and so many hours in a day—not to mention the stiff competition from all the various computer/TV/tablet/phone screens that beg for your attentions.
If you enjoyed this book, please help us spread the word about it. Tell all your friends. If they buy copies and like it, ask them to tell their friends, and their friends’ friends, and so on. Word of mouth is always our best sales tool.
If you are a creative type, doing things like posting fan art on social media, participating in message boards and plugging the book, doing cosplay and posting photos, or making models of things in the book is greatly appreciated. Use hashtags to make sure people know where the inspiration for the image originated and to what it relates. Anything that helps extend the reach and audience of the book or convention is always a positive. Support the things you enjoy.
To further aid the cause, you can politely ask your local library to purchase a copy and ask your local bookstores to carry it, as well. Every little bit helps.
Please leave a kind review on major websites like Amazon or Goodreads or any of your favorite book retailers. Link to the book on your Facebook pages or Twitter accounts. Good, honest reviews help more than you know, and we truly appreciate every review. The more positive reviews the book gets, the farther the reach of the book spreads.
And if you really enjoyed it, please let the author know. A kind word is sometimes the jolt a writer needs to keep working. That goes for any book you’ve enjoyed, ever. Most writers are on Twitter nowadays. If you send them a message, they will see it. They might not reply, but they are likely grateful.
You should probably also do it for anyone important in your life in general: your grandmother or grandfather, your parents, a favorite teacher, a friend that has been there for you—it really doesn’t matter: If someone has done something that you’ve appreciated, please let them know.
Spread some positivity in this world. It will do you, and others, more good than you might know.
With Many Thanks,
Spilled Inc. Press
This has been a Lord Bobbins Adventure.
Join him in person next year at TeslaCon™!
www.teslacon.com