Thursday, May 30, 2019

The Medusa Ritual - Installment 18




The Medusa Ritual
A Pierce Mostyn Paranormal Investigation
by
CW Hawes


Dotty’s rescued. But will Pierce Mostyn be able to stop the Masked Man’s escape?
Read on for the thrilling conclusion of The Medusa Ritual!


Chapter 23


Mostyn hit the floor, and took out his pistol. He saw light in the entryway of one of the tunnels, and then gunfire erupted.
Jones, Mostyn thought. Hallelujah!
Arcing through the air were two flares. They hit the wall and fell to the floor. The bright light illuminated the situation in the small chamber. Mostyn’s eyes swept the room. He spotted two men struggling to drag Dotty from the chamber.
Mostyn fired a double-tap from his pistol, sending two forty-five caliber bullets into one of the men. The man pitched forward as if he’d been hit with a sledgehammer. The other man let go of Dotty, turned around, and fell backwards under the impact from another pair of bullets sent by Mostyn’s pistol.
With pistol in one hand and knife in the other, Mostyn low crawled across the floor to where Dotty lay. When he reached her, he positioned himself in front of her and took in the scene. Several of the black suits lay dead, there was no sign of the masked man or the Chinese woman. Jones, Baker, Hammerschmidt, and Stoppen entered the chamber. NicAskill stood up, her knife blade colored red.
Dotty groaned, and muttered, “Chinese woman. Stop her.”
Mostyn touched her cheek, stood, and said, “That tunnel,” he pointed to the one he meant, “the masked man and the Chinese woman were there. Let’s go.”
“Wait a minute,” Jones said, “where are the lizard people?”
“You saw them too?” NicAskill said.
“They led us here,” Jones replied.
“Well, I’ll be…,” NicAskill muttered.
“Let’s go!” Mostyn shouted. “Jones, NicAskill, you first. And when you see the masked man or the woman that was with him, shoot first, ask questions later.”
“Right, Boss,” Jones said, and plunged into the tunnel, with NicAskill following.
“Baker, Hammerschmidt, you two help Dotty.”
“My God, Mostyn, she’s in her birthday suit,” Baker said, dropping his pack and stripping off his shirt.
“Thanks, Willie Lee,” Mostyn replied, and to Dr Stoppen he said, “Follow me!”
Mostyn and Stoppen plunged into the tunnel. Almost immediately Mostyn noticed the tunnel descending deeper into the earth.
Maybe this connects to the auditorium, he thought.
Jones and NicAskill were about fifty ahead of Mostyn. They ran around a curve in the tunnel, and a moment later Mostyn, significantly ahead of Stoppen, rounded the curve and almost ran into Jones, who’d stopped.
Before them stood the Chinese woman. Her hand was raised in a signal to halt. “The master says, goodbye. It is time for you to die.”
The Chinese woman’s eyes turned red and she began to change shape.
“She’s the Gorgon!” Mostyn yelled, Dotty’s words suddenly making sense. Jones, NicAskill, and Mostyn opened fire on her. The Gorgon’s body shook and twisted under the impact of the bullets, but was still standing when the three OUP agents ran out of ammunition.
Her beautiful face was still visible, but her body was halfway between a woman’s and something amorphous, slimy, and tentacled. Out of her head, where her hair had been, tentacles were emerging. Rivulets of green ooze were streaming from the many wounds. Mostyn could already feel a certain paralysis setting in. He turned around, ejected the magazine from his pistol, slammed a new one home, and racked the slide. He grabbed his mirror, held it up, and opened fire, watching the monster in the mirror. The first half dozen bullets missed. The next two, however, smashed their way through the thing’s neck, nearly severing the head.
The Gorgon collapsed to the floor. Jones shook himself, muttering, “What the hell?”
NicAskill shook her head and took a deep breath. “My God, I couldn’t breathe.”
“You two alright?” Mostyn asked.
“Yep,” Jones said. “Although for a moment there, it was like I couldn’t make a decision.”
“Me, too. But I’m ready to go, sir,” NicAskill added.
“Where’s Dr Stoppen?” Mostyn asked.
“Here.” Stoppen crept around the curve with a sheepish look on his face.
“Okay,” Mostyn said, “let’s go. One monster down, and one to go.”
Down the tunnel they continued, coming out in the auditorium, which smelled of scorched stone from the thermobaric grenade.
Jones swept the place with his flashlight and helmet lamp. “No one seems to be here.”
“The masked man disappeared when I tossed the stun grenade on the dais,” Mostyn said. “There must be another tunnel somewhere around there.”
The team walked to the dais and Jones swept the area with the twin beams of his lights.
“Give me your flashlight,” Mostyn said.
Jones handed the light to him, and Mostyn walked to the back wall, sweeping the beam of light across the stone. Not finding what he was looking for, he panned the beam of light across the floor.
“Ah, here it is,” he said, pointing to a crack along a portion of the line where the floor and wall meet. He then played the beam of light along the wall. “I don’t see a trigger, unless…” Mostyn pushed on the door and it swung inwards, revealing another tunnel.
“Jones, wedge this open so Baker and Hammerschmidt can follow.” He then entered the tunnel followed by NicAskill, Stoppen, and Jones.
Jones called out, “I saw Baker and Hammerschmidt enter the auditorium with Kemper when I jammed open the door.”
Mostyn waved his hand to signal he’d heard.
They followed the tunnel as it made a couple right angle turns and finally emptied into a large chamber. A chamber that was illuminated and filled with books, thousands of books filling the shelves from floor to ceiling along all four walls. In the middle was a large desk and chair. In one corner was a large and ornate Oriental folding screen. The screen was black and on it was a swirling chaos of red and orange, with two yellow cat eyes peering out of the chaos.
From around the screen, stepped the masked man. “You have found me. Most unfortunate for you.”
Mostyn raised his pistol.
“You cannot kill me, Mr Mostyn,” the masked man said.
“Want to see me try?” Mostyn replied.
“Many men have, you see, and I am still here.”
Behind Mostyn, Jones, and NicAskill, Dr Stoppen took out of his pocket a small black object and tossed it over the head of Jones. The little thing hit the floor, bounced once, and transformed into a hulking black monstrosity.
The masked man cried out, threw a handful of red dust into the air, and turned to flee. The monstrosity reached out, grabbed the masked man, pulled the screaming man to itself, and vanished.
“What the hell was that?” Jones asked.
“A class three demidaimonus,” Stoppen said. “A gift from Dr Bardon. For emergency use only.”
“Well, I’ll be damned,” NicAskill said. “And you had this thing all the time?”
“Well, not all the time,” Stoppen replied. “Dr Bardon gave it to me before he left. He thought we might have use for it. But only in the most dire emergency. I thought this qualified.”
“Why didn’t you tell us?” Jones asked.
“Because Bardon said not to. If you have an issue with him swearing me to secrecy, take it up with him.”
“That’s alright, Otto,” Baker said, having entered the room with Hammerschmidt and Kemper at the tail end of the conversation. “We all know Bardon moves in mysterious ways his wonders to perform.”
Mostyn clapped Jones on the shoulder. “You ought to know by now, the Director has lots of goodies up his sleeves.”
“What I don’t get,” Jones said, “is why he just doesn’t do all this himself instead of sending us in harm’s way.”
“Well, Jones, he’s not God,” Mostyn replied.
“He’s almost like God,” NicAskill said. “Are you sure he isn’t some kind of supernatural being?”
Mostyn shrugged. “I only know what he told me.”
“Which was?” NicAskill said.
“That he’s human. All too human.”
Jones shook his head. “Yeah, right.”



Epilogue


Dr Rafe Bardon lit his old bent bulldog briar pipe. The odor of sweet Virginia pipe tobacco filled his office. Sitting on the other side of his desk were Mostyn and his team. There was an empty chair in remembrance of Dr Winifred Petrie.
“I want to begin by saying thank you for an outstanding job. You destroyed a star vampire and the Gorgon. Wing Lee is no longer with us. His incredible library is being cataloged by Dr Stoppen. And we have made contact with the lizard people. All in all, a superb job. Thank you all.”
“What about the family of Fiorella Flores-Hernandez?” NicAskill asked.
“Yes, very unfortunate,” Bardon said, nodding his head slowly and gravely. “They will be adequately taken care of.”
“But what did you tell them?” NicAskill pressed.
“Something they could believe,” Bardon replied. “After all, who would believe that an extra-dimensional entity killed their daughter by turning her to stone? Why such things are the stuff of myth!” Bardon’s face was serious, but there was definitely a twinkle in his eye.
“Well, again, I want to thank you for your service. You all did fine work. Thank you.” Bardon stood and everyone knew that was the signal the meeting was over. As people began filing out, Bardon said, “Mr Mostyn and Dr Kemper, if you’d be so kind as to wait a few moments?”
When everyone was gone, Mostyn and Kemper resumed their seats. Dr Bardon sat and relit his pipe. When he had it going, he spoke.
“I’m glad you got there in time, Pierce, otherwise our Dr Kemper would not be here and, well, we’d have a bigger problem on our hands.”
“What problem, sir?” Dotty asked.
“Don’t have time to go into it now, my dear. No, no time.”
Mostyn looked at Dotty. “Yes, we were very lucky getting there when we did, sir,” Mostyn said.
Bardon smiled. “Oh, I don’t think luck had anything to do with it.”
“What do you mean, sir?” Mostyn asked.
“Just what I said, my boy, just what I said. Now, unfortunately, I can’t give you two any time off. A very big discovery has been made by one of our satellites. The photos are phenomenal, and I have to send you two out right away.”
Bardon slid a folder to the edge of his desk. Mostyn picked up the folder and took a look inside.
“Is this for real?” Mostyn asked.
“It is, Pierce, my boy, it is.” Bardon rubbed his hands together in obvious glee. “The opportunity of a lifetime.”
“For crying out loud,” Dotty said, “will you two let me in on what’s going on?”
“Sorry, Dot,” Mostyn said, “we’re going to Saudi Arabia.” A wicked smile appeared on Mostyn’s face. “And just think…”
“What?” Dotty said.
“There won’t be any trees.”
A look of disgust appeared on her face. “Maybe not, but there will be plenty of goddamn sand. For once, just once, I’d like to get an assignment in a city.”
Dr Bardon leaned back in his chair and folded his hands across his ample stomach. Around his pipe, his mouth was stretched into a big smile. “Oh, you will, Dr Kemper, you will.”



The End




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What people are saying about the Pierce Mostyn series:

“…a fast-paced story with lots of action, yet does not neglect the characters.”

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“This series is fun…”

“…a weird tale of adventure, humor, and horror.”



The Medusa Ritual is copyright © 2019 by CW Hawes. All rights reserved.

Tuesday, May 28, 2019

Men’s Fiction




There is in the publishing industry a definite bias towards women. Jason Pinter’s excellent article in the 25 May 2011 HuffPost, “Why Men Don’t Read: How Publishing is Alienating Half the Population”, explains the reason for and critiques this bias. I think he is right on target.

What’s worse is when publishers grudgingly admit that maybe men do read, they’ll immediately add — but they don’t read fiction!

I think that’s about as true as the fact horses have feathers.

Men do read fiction. I won’t believe anyone who tries to tell me men don’t read Clive Cussler, or Lee Child, or Tom Clancy, or William W Johnstone. Or when they were boys didn’t read Sherlock Holmes, or Tarzan, or Doc Savage. I just won’t believe it.

Porter Anderson, in a 26 December 2013 post on Jane Friedman’s blog, “Men Don’t Read Fiction? BULL! — Writing on the Ether”, explodes the publishing myth that men don’t read fiction. Do take a read. It’s an excellent post.

I think part of the problem is the ever increasing focus on women in our society, as a way to right their previous inequality. We’ve seen an explosion of genres and categories that target women. Starting with the very explicit Women’s Fiction.

There’s nothing wrong with marketing books to a particular demographic. Nothing. In fact, it’s good business. But if it’s good business to market to women, why isn’t it also good business to market to men? I’m a man, and I read. I even read fiction. In fact, I mostly read fiction. I certainly can’t be the only guy who does.

In an exceedingly insightful paper written by Kate Summers and published in the Spring 2013 (Vo. 52, No. 3) issue of RUSA, Ms Summers provides us with information that supports what we already know but fail to act on: men and women are different — and have very different reading interests and habits.

For example, Summers points out that the culprit in fostering this bias against the male reader may in fact be the public school system.

She notes the belief that “boys’ under achievement in reading is a result of a school curriculum that is ‘biased towards girls’ reading interests’ or a product of the predominance of female teachers versus male teachers, which contributes to boys’ perception of reading as being a feminine pursuit.”

Young boys, who certainly don’t want girl germs, aren’t going to be interested in fiction geared towards girls. Why? Because boys have very different interests vis-a-vis girls.

Summers cites a classroom study of 6 boys, which just so happens to coincide with my own experience: namely, that boys will read fiction that ties in with their interests.

Early on, I was fascinated with dinosaurs. Consequently, I liked stories that featured dinosaurs; such as, Danny and the Dinosaur and The Shy Stegosaurus of Cricket Creek. As my interests developed, so did my interest in fiction on those topics.

If you want boys to read fiction, find out what they’re interested in and give them fiction to read on those subjects.

Girls will read Betsy, Tacy, and Tib; and the boys will read Star Rangers. And all will be well with the world.

So if we were to have a new BISAC fiction code for Men’s Fiction (one doesn’t exist now, while women have FIC044000 FICTION/Women) what would be the characteristics of this category, or genre? What would make it different from Women’s Fiction?

Based on the information cited in Ms Summer’s article, I put forward the following as a starting point.

Men’s Fiction would in general

  • Be written by men (perhaps women using a male pen name)
  • Have a male protagonist
  • Contain elements of the genres preferred by men, such as adventure, humor, horror, and science fiction
  • Have believable characters with whom they can identify
  • Be realistic fiction that deals with contemporary problems of people

Which means if male authors want to attract male readers they need to re-think their reliance on the kick-ass heroine as the protagonist. While the kick-ass heroine may attract some male readers, as a whole men don’t like female main characters. This is because men have a greater need to identify with the protagonist than do women. Something to think about.

Robert E Howard recognized this. He paired his kick-ass heroines with a man. She might be the star, but there was a man there so his mainly male readers wouldn’t get turned off. 

Erle Stanley Gardner noted that one of the reasons for the popularity of Sherlock Holmes was due to “the extreme masculine atmosphere and the yearning for freedom.” After a time, even the most happily married man begins to feel squeezed by his responsibilities to his family. He may be tied to a job he doesn’t like. He may have doctor bills. Chores like cutting the grass, or painting the house. There are dirty diapers, lack of sleep, and the Terrible Twos.

Holmes and Watson were blissfully free from all those things. Their extremely masculine world is something every guy dreams of — no matter how much he may love his wife and kids.

Gardner also wrote

Every story, or rather, every type of story that has succeeded has the common point of a single man, unaided, overcoming difficulties by the inherent power that is within him and attached to him.

I’m not sure this applies as much to women’s fiction, but it sure as heck applies to men’s fiction. That is every man’s dream: To conquer the impossible without any help or aid. It is the essence of the adventure story, a genre much preferred by men — not women.

I don’t know if I’d get anywhere marketing books as Men’s Fiction. I suppose I can give it a try. There is, after all, #MensFiction on Twitter.

Men do read fiction. They aren’t as social about their reading as women, which may account for all those surveys which say men don’t read. But they do read and they do tell other men the books they’ve read. 

With the advent of e-readers, there is a new privacy when reading in public. No longer can the world see your book cover. This may work to the advantage of men. They can read their guilty pleasures, Conan the Barbarian, Doc Savage, and Longarm, and not get questioning looks. Something to think about.


Comments are always welcome! And until next time, happy reading!

Friday, May 24, 2019

The Medusa Ritual - Installment 17




The Medusa Ritual
A Pierce Mostyn Paranormal Investigation
by
CW Hawes


Will Pierce Mostyn make it in time to save Dotty Kemper from the sacrificial knife?
The adventure continues!


Chapter 22


Mostyn shrugged out of his backpack, took out a stun grenade, and hurled it onto the dais. The flash-bang caused instant pandemonium. Mostyn and NicAskill charged down the steps that led from the balcony to the main floor, across the auditorium and up the steps to the dais.
The women who had been holding Dotty were screaming their panic at being unable to see or hear. The man with the knife had vanished.
Mostyn picked up Dotty, who looked as though she’d been drugged, and headed back towards the steps leading up to the balcony.
A couple of the men who had been chanting tried blocking Mostyn’s way and were shot down by NicAskill. Up the stairs the three went, and once on the balcony, Mostyn laid Dotty down and tried to rouse her. NicAskill dispatched two more of the men who’d been chanting as they climbed the stairs.
“Can you get her awake, Boss?”
“She’s pretty much out of it. Keeps mumbling something about a Chinese woman, but I can’t make out the words.”
“We’re going to have to get a move on, they’re getting ready to mount a counterattack.”
“Alright, NicAskill, let’s go.” Mostyn slipped into his backpack and hoisted Dotty up over his shoulder and moved into the tunnel.
NicAskill fired a thermobaric grenade into the auditorium and then joined Mostyn. “That ought to slow them down, Boss.”
“Take the lead, NicAskill.”
“I can help carry her.”
“No, one of us needs to be ready for action.”
“Yes, sir.” NicAskill moved passed Mostyn, taking the lead, as they walked down the tunnel.
Two men appeared in the tunnel entrance, and NicAskill dropped them before they got off a shot. She sprinted ahead and at the tunnel entrance, Mostyn saw gun flashes and heard the firearm reports. He carefully lay Dotty down, and once again tried to rouse her. All he got was incoherent mumbling about the Chinese woman.
Mostyn stood and saw NicAskill hurl a grenade. The explosion was deafening in the confined world of the tunnel. And even where he was standing, his ears were ringing.
NicAskill yelled, “All clear for the moment,” and moved out into the intersection of the five tunnels.
Mostyn picked up Dotty and followed NicAskill into the intersection of the tunnels, where he saw that they were surrounded by armed men in black suits.

***

It hadn’t taken DC Jones long to figure out that Mostyn and NicAskill would soon be out of range and he’d lose contact with them. He made a call to Sumer Base and managed to relay through the static that Langston needed to send him the holographic map that he’d sent to Mostyn. Langston sent the map and now Jones had the tunnel system and also the little blinking dots from the sub-dermal trackers indicating where Dotty, Mostyn, and NicAskill were in the pile of spaghetti that was the tunnel system below Los Angeles.
Dr Otto Stoppen was the slowest moving in the group, which frustrated Jones to no end, as the doctor’s slowness prevented the team from making good time. However, with Langston’s guidance, Jones’s group was able to take a couple shortcuts that got them into Chinatown fairly quickly.
“Alright, Jones,” Langston began, “now that you’re under Chinatown, we’re going to be dependent on your eyes and ears. Our maps are close non-existent for this part of the tunnel system.”
“Roger that, Langston,” Jones replied, and began a running monologue of the tunnels as they passed through.
Fifteen or so minutes into the monologue, Jones said, “Okay, we’re coming up to a ninety degree left turn.” There was a brief pause, before Jones continued, “I’ve made the turn. There’s another tunnel coming in at a right angle… What the hell?”
Baker snapped a picture, at the same time saying, “Oh, my God, it’s the lizard people!”
Everyone came to a halt. In the tunnel joining the one Jones and the team were in, there were four strange looking beings. They were humanoid in form. Their skin had the texture of a lizard’s, and their heads were block-shaped, with the jaw protruding somewhat. They had two slits instead of a nose, and their ears were small and lay flat to the head. The creatures appeared to have no hair, or clothing.
Jones regained his composure first. He held up his hands, and said, “We won’t hurt you. We’re looking for our friends.”
Two of the creators looked at each other, then turned back to Jones. Into his mind popped images of Mostyn and NicAskill.
“Yes, yes!” Jones said, and smiled.
Next came an image of Dotty Kemper.
“Yes!” Jones said, and once again smiled.
A third image came into Jones’s mind, that of the masked man.
Jones shook his head, put on an angry face, and said, “No! He’s not our friend.”
The two creatures faced each other for some time, then one turned to Jones and in Jones’s mind a picture formed of him and the team following the creatures.
Jones smiled in reply and said, “Yes.”
“What’s going on down there, Jones?” Langston asked.
“Just made contact with the lizard people.”
“Lizard people? Are you serious?”
“Yep. Baker even snapped a pic. The lizard people know about Mostyn, NicAskill, and Kemper. If I understand them, they’re going to take us to them.”
“Sounds too good to be true.”
“We’ll find out.”
“You sure they aren’t a product of sewer gas? You know. You’re imagining them.”
Jones chuckled. “We’ll find out soon enough.”
The team followed the lizard people down the tunnel. The passageway made several turns and after the last one Jones saw light and heard voices, voices he recognized. The voices of Pierce Mostyn and Kymbra NicAskill.

***

“We’re a bit outgunned, Boss,” NicAskill said, “so what’s our game plan?”
“I thought you said it was all clear?”
“It was when I said it. So now what?”
Before Mostyn could answer, from out of one of the tunnels stepped the masked man. Next to him was a beautiful Chinese woman.
“Special Agent in Charge Pierce Mostyn, we meet again,” the masked man said in his ethereally sibilant voice. “Although you and your Dr Bardon did have me fooled. However, my accomplice,” he turned and gave a slight nod to the Chinese woman, “was able to extract much useful information from Dr Kemper. Now I know who you are and what you want. Unfortunately for you, you and Dr Bardon will not succeed this time.”
The masked man motioned with his hand and two men stepped up to Mostyn and took Dotty Kemper from him. As they were doing so, Dotty muttered, “Chinese woman, bad.”
“The conflagration you unleashed in my temple, Special Agent NicAskill, only delays the inevitable. However, I will now have you to sacrifice with Dr Kemper which will insure my success.”
The masked man made a movement with his hand and two men approached NicAskill. At that moment, a high-pitched cry, almost outside the range of human hearing, sounded, the bulbs in the flashlights and lanterns burst, and the tunnel went black.



To Be Continued!




While waiting for the next installment, the entire Pierce Mostyn Paranormal series is available for your reading pleasure.

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What people are saying about the Pierce Mostyn series:

“…a fast-paced story with lots of action, yet does not neglect the characters.”

“Hawes has a great time with this series and does a good job (too good) of leaving us wanting more.”

“This series is fun…”

“…a weird tale of adventure, humor, and horror.”




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The Medusa Ritual is copyright © 2019 by CW Hawes. All rights reserved.