Future book stuff from me, available on for preorder now

Monster Hunter Legion

http://rcm.amazon.com/e/cm?lt1=_blank&bc1=000000&IS2=1&bg1=FFFFFF&fc1=000000&lc1=0000FF&t=monshuntnati-20&o=1&p=8&l=as4&m=amazon&f=ifr&ref=ss_til&asins=1451637977

This will be a limited edition hardcover that has a signature page from me bound into it.  

The Monster Hunters:

http://rcm.amazon.com/e/cm?lt1=_blank&bc1=000000&IS2=1&bg1=FFFFFF&fc1=000000&lc1=0000FF&t=monshuntnati-20&o=1&p=8&l=as4&m=amazon&f=ifr&ref=ss_til&asins=1451637845

This is a hard cover omnibus of the first 3 MHI books. I have no idea how they are going to fit them all in there togehter.  EDIT: The link should go to the right place now.

The Grimnoir Chronicles: Hard Magic, mass market paperback

http://rcm.amazon.com/e/cm?lt1=_blank&bc1=000000&IS2=1&bg1=FFFFFF&fc1=000000&lc1=0000FF&t=monshuntnati-20&o=1&p=8&l=as4&m=amazon&f=ifr&ref=ss_til&asins=1451638248

And thanks to everybody who has been going to Amazon through the links on my page. Any time you order stuff through here, you don’t get charged any extra, but I get a % for the refferal. It is rather awesome. So far I’ve made enough to offset the growing Hordes/Warmachine arms race between various Utah novelists. I just heard that Dan Wells ordered 3 more warjacks… Stuff just got real.

So by purchasing all of the stuff you would purchase through Amazon anyway, and stopping through here first, it will enable me to get more guys like this to paint in order to stomp other writer’s faces.

I named him Kevin. Yes, that is an MHI patch. So you totally know he's awesome.

Yes. Because I’m mature like that.

More reasons why the Occupy movement sucks and is lame

Best photo ever, from the NY Post/Matthew McDermott

The above picture is from when an Occupie interrupted the swearing in ceremony for newly elected congressman Bob Turner at a high school in queens. Who the hell heckles a swearing in ceremony? Adam Weissmann and three other clueless protestors, that’s who. (there’s Adam pictured above, looking highly befuddled) Turner is the guy that replaced Wiener in a special election, and Wiener was a dirt bag, so I don’t really know what they were protesting. Equal rights for dirt bags? Anyway, it is rather uncouth to interrupt a swearing in ceremony, so a former Marine, former NYPD, guy named Kevin Hiltunen (pictured above whooping ass, old school) dragged the Occupie out and tossed him in the street. “I guess you could say I sorted him out.”

I would have to agree, Kevin. He looks pretty sorted out to me. Good work. The half of America that works for a living is going to print this picture and frame it.

Clueless, whiny, obnoxious, annoying, smelly, and rapey… That’s a great recipe for success right there.   

I keep getting told that the Occupy Wall Street is a legitimate political movement, every bit as legitimate as the Tea Party… Just with more rapes, murders, shootings, riots, tuberculosis outbreaks, public sex, rampant drug use, drug overdoses, and still no real coherent message other than “We want more stuff!”

I went by the Occupy Salt Lake encampment the other day. I was surprised by how tiny it was. It was just a little cluster of tents. I’ve been to ward scout camps that were bigger. The local Ren Fair is bigger… Yet, they’re still managing to have fatalities. That’s quite the ringing endorsement. Listen to our ideas, but as soon as you put us in charge people will die mysteriously, you’ll get raped but we won’t report it, and then you can catch a 19th century disease! Yay!

I’ve been told repeatedly by people on Facebook that I am wrong to insult OWS because they have some “good points” and how the Tea Party should totally work with them, because we want “the same thing.”

No. We. Don’t.  We can agree that cronyism is bad, but the proposed solutions are completely divergent. The Tea Party wants smaller government. OWS wants (as far as anyone can tell because they still don’t have a coherent message) a government that can do absolutely everything for them. Leave me alone vs. Fix all my bad choices for me. We pay too much in taxes vs. Eat the rich and give me their stuff. Freedom vs. Fairness. These ideals are opposite ends of the spectrum. There is no middle ground here.

The argument that they are the same because both sides agree that there is a problem is absurd. I’m sure plenty of Russians thought that the Tsar was wrong, but that didn’t make Lenin the right answer. Anyone who says that the two sides are morally equivalent is delusional.

Both sides agree that the body politic is unhealthy. The Tea Party solution is to replace the defective parts and put the body on a diet. The OWS solution is to transplant its brain with a cabbage. Then set it on fire.

Where were the cries last year that everyone who was unhappy with the current economic situation should listen to the Tea Party, because they had a legitimate complaint? Funny, I don’t remember those. Right wing group says that problem X exists, insult them and mock those crazies. Left wing group says that problem X exists, then we should all respectfully agree that X is a serious problem and have a dialog about what to do about X, even though the left wing solution to X rewards the people that caused X, and then makes X ten times worse.

That’s the thing that irks me the most about OWS.  Comparing how they get treated in the media narrative against how competing movements are portrayed. The Tea Party are violent, racist extremists, with an extreme agenda, who want to lynch minorities, and if the government does what they want then we’ll go back to the dark ages, all the old folks will die, children will starve, and so they can all burn in hell, those racist bastards.  On the other hand, OWS demonstrates that the government needs to do more, and that people are suffering in these tough times, and that greed is bad m’kay, and that we should totally feel sorry for these poor people, and if only all those awful rich people would give up their stuff, then everybody could be happy together.

Sure, that’s simplified, but look at how either side is talked about on any story, any issue, in the vast majority of the media and see if it doesn’t fit those basic parameters. Obviously it isn’t limited to just Tea Party vs. OWS. I’m still amazed by the comments about Herman Cain’s “Predatory Black Sexuality” on MSNBC, which was about the stupidest, most actually racist thing I’ve heard in a long time… Besides, everybody that reads this blog when I post my hate mail knows that I’m the one stealing all the white women.

The narrative gets repeated and repeated and repeated until all the stupid people just swallow it unthinkingly. The other day I posted on Twitter, “Remember when the Tea Party had all those rapes? Yeah, me too. Thanks CNN.”  And I immediately got a reply that “No, but I remember when that Tea Party guy shot a congresswoman in the face!”  What? Seriously? Okay… Bear with me, you ill informed ass muppet… If you will recall a lunatic dissatisfied nut job that was so in his own world that he really didn’t fit in with any rational political philosophy and didn’t belong to any particular group (but loved him some Karl Marx) shot some people because the voices in his head told him too, this was IMMEDIATELY shouted from the rooftops as definitive PROOF that the Tea Party was as evil as the media said they are.  (And it was all Sarah Palin’s fault.)

Sure, afterwards it came out that the guy wasn’t affiliated with them in any way, shape, or form, but the narrative had been set, and here we are all this time later and morons are still parroting it. If you can’t find actual bad stuff, make some up. 

However, we’re supposed to dismiss the over three thousand arrests at various Occupy movements? I’m supposed to be furious at the Oakland PD, because a poor, picked on, former Marine was severely injured by their horrid police brutality? (sure, he’d been drummed out of the Marines for drug abuse, ran a website about how the military sucks, and I personally find that I experience far fewer severe head injuries when I chose not to engage in battle with riot cops, but whatever). 

We’re supposed to ignore that rapes and sexual assaults are rampant, and that the OWS people were trying to handle them without involving law enforcement? From the New York Post, “We don’t tell anyone. We handle it internally. I said too much already.” A few weeks ago when I posted that on Twitter I had several angry people demanding links, like I’d just made up these totally baseless allegations, because surely, if all these horrible things were so common, they would’ve heard about it on the regular news! My answer was to put Rape at Occupy Wall Street into Google and get ready for lots of reading.

I want you to imagine with me for a moment that one half of one percent of the same type of criminal activity that has occurred at an Occupy event were to have occurred at any Tea Party event. Now imagine the media coverage…

There is a fundamental difference in character between the two sides. By their fruits ye shall know them. Sadly, the media is totally incapable of understanding that concept.

And for my closing statement, here is video of someone at Occupy Seattle shitting on a public sidewalk.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Wl1ObUGAoHE&feature=player_embedded

What my D6 coauthor did on Veteran's Day

I got a couple of e-mails from Mike Kupari yesterday. For those of you that don’t know him, Mike is my best friend, coauthored the thriller Dead Six with me, and is currently serving in Afghanistan as an EOD Technician. (the crazy guys that take care of IEDs). 

This is the book we wrote together:  http://www.amazon.com/dp/1451637586/ref=as_li_tf_til?tag=monshuntnati-20&camp=14573&creative=327641&linkCode=as1&creativeASIN=1451637586&adid=0YSR1G7S3HRC8B37RT4E&&ref-refURL=http%3A%2F%2Frcm.amazon.com%2Fe%2Fcm%3Ft%3Dmonshuntnati-20%26o%3D1%26p%3D8%26l%3Das1%26asins%3D1451637586%26ref%3Dtf_til%26fc1%3D000000%26IS2%3D1%26lt1%3D_blank%26m%3Damazon%26lc1%3D0000FF%26bc1%3D000000%26bg1%3DFFFFFF%26f%3Difr

He didn’t get to do any book signings when his first novel came out, because he was too busy being awesome.

He sent me the following pictures of his Veteran’s Day.

 

We e-mail back and forth quite a bit. This is from the last couple of emails he sent me. 

You know what’s funny?  You know how you see all those Veterans Day posters and pictures and stuff, where it shows some GIs sleeping in some God-forsaken, dusty hellhole? 
 
Yeah, I totally did that.  Whole nine yards.  Sleeping on the hard cold ground, 70-pound rucksack, and what was supposed to be a 2-3 kilometer walk turned into a 10 kilometer walk.
 
Here we were talking about the rapes, shootings, deaths, and Tuberculosis outbreak among the Occupy Wall Street crowd:

I have seen young Americans, recklessly brave, crawling through villages with 100 pound backpacks.  I’ve seen them sleep on the cold ground, huddled together in mud huts, crapping in holes in the ground.  I’ve watched them mourn their dead.  They eat terrible food and live off of however much water they can carry.  They brave IEDs every time they leave the FOB, and through it all, they keep telling jokes.
 
You know what THEY want?  A lighter pack.  To not have to walk quite as far.  In some cases, they just want their legs back. 
 
And look at the country they’re protecting.  Tens, possibly hundreds of millions of sniveling parasites braying for Mother Government to feed them, clothe them, house them, guarantee them a job, and wipe their fucking asses for them.

It makes me sick.  America doesn’t deserve the military it has.
 
Anyway.  Here’s another cool guy picture.  This is what I did on Veterans Day.

 

The Burning Throne, episoide 4: The Battle of Shinjo Ridge

Continued from http://larrycorreia.wordpress.com/2011/11/04/the-burning-throne-episode-3-the-ballad-of-ide-todo/

This game night featured a special guest star, my 11 year old daughter, who played Hida O-Hinku. This was also the first time we had one of our game journals turn into a full blown fiction, in this particular case, an action sequence. It would not be the last. This game was a personal favorite of mine, mostly because my daughter got to play a complete badass haunted Crabzerker.

#

Sixth Entry

From the journal of Hida Makoto, Crab Clan. 

It has been many weeks since I joined Ide Todo on his quest. Though I did not think it was possible, I have come to respect the little Unicorn. He searches always for peace, yet finds ways for men such as I to make war more effectively. How can I respect, even like, a man that will not lift his own blade, but will send others to fight in his stead? Before I would call such a man a coward, but Ide Todo is certainly no coward. I do not understand how, but under his meekness hides a soul of steel. He would not last ten minutes on the Wall, yet here I am, prepared to follow him into a war. Strange times. 

We have spent the last ten days on the river heading north into Unicorn lands. As usual, the ronin Zuko does not talk much and avoids the others. Together we have killed many men, but I do not understand him either. He likes his secrets. Kitsuki Tsuze, like all Dragons, is an odd man. He calls himself an investigator, which I think means he likes to figure out puzzles. Puzzles anger me. I think he is here because he does not like the woman he is supposed to marry back in Dragon lands. Then you’ve got our Mantis, who likes his betrothed a little too much, if you get what I mean. Tsuruchi Machio is good company, because he cares for the fake politeness of coddled samurai even less than I do.

Shiro Shinjo seems like it would have been very nice at one time. My travelling companions were distressed by how destroyed and burned the country around it looked, and it didn’t help that there was a giant army to the north. Eh… Trust me. You get used to it. Nicer view than the Shadowlands. Smells better too. I was very surprised to see my family’s banner protecting one flank. This is an odd development. I will investigate when we land.

Seventh Entry

From the journal of Hida Makoto, Crab Clan. 

There is not much time to write tonight. Tomorrow is going to be busy with killing and it is late.

Today was a momentous day. I have been reunited with family. I was able to practice with a proper Hida sensei, (I’m still sore from the beating). And most importantly, my mission to become worthy to marry Otomo Yuni was bolstered when my family was told of my exploits amongst the Scorpion and Lion.  Heh… They didn’t see that coming!

I was surprised to find my half-brother Kenzan was leading the Crab forces, and he brought my half-sister O-Hinku with him. Truly, he is destined for greatness and his skills and courage will bring as much honor to the family as my father ruined. Kenzan was not glad to see me, but little sister was.

Ah, young O-Hinku… They call her the Little-Hida-Face-Wrecker for a reason, her ferocity in battle is unequaled. Her and Kenzan’s father was a Toritaka ghost hunter, and as a result of his many battles, O-Hinku was born touched by Gaki-Do. She is a disturbing, completely anti-social, violent berserker, and I am very fond of her.

I was saddened to find out that her heirloom ono, momo-iro-chou has been stolen. She has no clues as to who has taken it. If I come across Pink Butterfly, (do not laugh at the name, the blade is stained pink from twenty generations worth of blood and tears from its enemies) I will destroy the thief, and return it to her.

The Crab are leading an assault against the Yobanjin positions tomorrow morning. I asked to join.

Kenzan did not want to let me fight alongside my brothers. Too many of the men still consider me bad luck. Curse your cowardice, father… But I am used to this. The mountain does not bend, so I demanded a place in the battle.

It is sad that my reputation is better among strangers than my own clan, but the Akodo and Shoshuro daimyos spoke highly of my skills and told stories of my accomplishments battling many pirates. I think Kenzan was impressed, at least enough to allow me to join O-Hinku’s squad for the battle.

#

Battle of Shinjo Ridge

The air tasted like ashes.

However, it was better to taste ashes than blood. Hida O-Hinku cleared her throat and spit on the ground. “That was not very lady-like,” Hida Makoto chided her. He kept his voice low so the men would not hear. Though they had grown up together, it was never appropriate to tease the gunso.

“Neither is massacring honorless Yobanjin dogs,” she answered.

“I’ve missed you.” Her half-brother laughed. “It will be good to fight with you again.”

O-Hinku nodded. Makoto had certainly changed in the months since she’d last seen him. He was far more confident. Many of the other Crab did not trust him because of his father’s failures, but O-Hinku had often sparred against the older and larger Makoto. She was one of the most naturally gifted warriors to ever come from the Mountain Shadow’s dojo, and had always fought more experienced opponents to test her skills. Makoto may not have been the most agile, graceful, or even skilled of warriors, but he was stubbornly difficult to hurt. More than anything, she was glad to have someone familiar by her side. After all, this was her first time in command.

Makoto turned away to speak with his strange companions. The masked ronin, Zukozuko, was solemnly running a whetstone down a battered katana. He met her gaze with his good eye and did not look away. Tsuruchi Machio was busy stringing his bow and telling a story about eating pork or some such thing. They were odd, but Makoto vouched for them, so that would do.

She overheard a nearby conversation. “What is he doing here?”

“I don’t know. Makoto is bad luck.”

“Shouldn’t he be shoveling dung with the other eta?” The two Crab shared a hearty laugh. 

O-Hinku barely resisted the urge to turn and kill the man that had said that, and only because she would need every sword possible for the coming fight. She gripped the handle of her ono so hard that her knuckles turned white, but the urge to satisfy the desires of Gaki-Do slowly passed.

A horn sounded. That meant that on the other side of this hill, the combined armies of four great clans were on the move, led by her brother Hida Kenzan. O-Hinku was proud that her family mon was at the tip of the spear. She turned to study the two dozen Crab infantry awaiting her orders. Many she knew from home or from the Wall, many were strangers. Some were saying prayers to Osana-Wo, while others were pouring buckets of water over their armor in the hopes that it would dull the pain of legendary Yobanjin death fires. All were eager to fight.

“We move out on the second horn.” She did not raise her voice. She did not need to. Two dozen mempo turned to face her and all fell silent. Though she was only in her seventeenth year, her reputation for violence was enough to get any Crab’s attention. She did not like talking, in fact, nothing made her more uncomfortable, but she knew it was a gunso’s duty to inspire. “Follow me. Move quickly. When we reach the top we will push their archers into the ravine. Kill them all for CRAB CLAN!”

“CRAB CLAN!”  Heavy weapons slammed rhythmically against the hard ground. “CRAB CLAN!”

The second horn sounded. O-Hinku hefted her gigantic ono. “Charge!”

#

The air had turned to fire.

The world was black, spreading ash in every direction. Blood flowed red only to disappear into the black as the fires continually washed over them. The Hida stood shoulder to shoulder, a blue line in the black, heavy weapons rising and falling, rising and falling. This was not war. This was peasants threshing fields. Their harvest was death.

Where they had been told to expect tens of Yobanjin, there were hundreds. Every step forward was against a wall of gaijin bodies. The muscles of O-Hinku’s arms screamed in protest as she swung her ono endlessly. The blade slammed through a Yobanjin’s throat and blood sprayed. Every flying droplet suddenly burst into flames. The blood struck her armor and burned like tiny rivulets of molten steel splashed from a Kaiu forge.

A nearby Hiruma wrenched his katana from a Yobanjin’s belly. O-Hinku closed her eyes as the fire washed across her. She opened them to see the Hiruma stumbling away, his long hair on fire, eyes melting and pouring down his blackened cheeks. He collapsed into a heap. Another man lost. A Hida took his place.

Rise and fall. Rise and fall. Thresh the field under the hot sun.

A screaming gaijin dodged her attack. The ono blade cleaved into the charred dirt. She could not lift it in time, and turned so that her armor would receive the tip of his sword. But the blow never landed. The gaijin’s head ruptured and sprayed a cloud of white teeth. Makoto yanked his tetsubo back, taking the gaijin’s jaw with it.

Makoto nodded at her through the consuming fire. Osana-Wo must surely smile upon her brother for him to bear such heat without flinching. “For Hida!”

“For HIDA!” She smashed another Yobanjin flat and was rewarded with pain. She’d soaked her clothing in water before the fight, but it had long since turned to steam. Only the touch of the gaki, rewarding her with strength for every life she took, was keeping her alive. 

The men were faltering under the onslaught and the heat. Hida Toru fell. Hida Chun was disemboweled. Hiruma Yoriku died choking on his own blood. Does this hill ever end? The Tsuruchi sliced a charging Yobanjin’s arm off, but fell in the resulting explosion. The brave Mantis struggled back to his feet, blood streaming from a multitude of wounds and shouted for more.

Ash fell as if they were trapped in a tainted snow storm. “The top! We’ve made it.” Makoto shouted as he slammed a Yobanjin’s ribs into the earth and kicked another one aside.

Reach the archers and we have succeeded. “The ravine… It’s on the wrong side!” O-Hinku screamed her fury. How? The ravine was supposed to be over there. They would never reach the archers now. They would fail. The ravine was ten feet wide and very deep. Falling down it in heavy armor would mean their end. There was only ten Yobanjin left on this side, but more were coming. In the distance, Kenzan’s army was charging up the hill, but the enemy archers would have an eternity to keep raining arrows upon them.

Kaiu Heihachi caught a spear with his mouth. Hida Ozske killed the spearman, but could not stand the resulting fires and collapsed. O-Hinku looked around. Only half of her men were still on their feet, and most of them did not look like they would be able to leap across the ravine. Hiruma Kaisozu grabbed her by the obi. “O-Hinku-sama. We cannot survive a counter attack.”

The Tsuruchi went down under another onslaught of the Dark Oracle’s foul magic. This time he did not get back up. She looked to Makoto, who understood the difficult decision she faced. He nodded at her, acknowledging her wisdom. He was prepared to die with her. “Kaisozu, take everyone that can walk, carry the wounded, and retreat.”

“But what about you?”

“All those archers aren’t going to kill themselves. Now go!” Kaisozu bowed quickly, then ran to fulfill her command. “Makoto, what are you doing?” Her brother was recklessly charging toward the ravine, alone.

“Buying you time.” Makoto crashed into the swarm of screaming fur-clad bodies. Sword blades hummed through the air. He was completely surrounded. Spear blades bounced off his armor with echoing clangs, and then he was lost from view.

“Makoto!” she followed, only to realize that one other person was still with her. The ronin Zukozuko was courageously still fighting. Though haggard, burned, and bleeding, he charged into the fray.

There was a mighty roar and the pile of gaijin erupted. Two of them tumbled, screaming, down the ravine to explode against the rocks below. Makoto rose, bellowing. One tried to flee, but Makoto’s tetsubo shattered his spine. Then her brother kicked the last one in the stomach and sent him hurtling over the edge. A wall of fire rose around him as he thrust the dripping tetsubo into the sky. “CRAAAB CLAAAN!”  

There would be no talk of eta courage now.

The three remaining warriors shared a nervous glance at the wide ravine. A horde of screaming barbarians were coming. Across the gash in the earth, the archers spotted them and turned to engage. There was no time for hesitation. Zukozuko ran and leapt, smoking robes fluttering behind him. For just a moment she thought she saw one of the black tattoos of the Togashi on his arms, but then it was gone. He sailed impossibly far, and landed easily, immediately slashing and dodging between the archers. The sight inspired O-Hinku, and she hurled herself across the chasm. It yawed, hungry, beneath her, but then her sandals struck solid ground. Makoto was clumsy, but he was strong. He jumped across and cushioned his fall by crushing a Yobanjin flat.

It was a blur of steel and wood. Blood and fire. They herded the archers like so many oxen and flung them to their deaths. The fury of Gaki-Do stood with the blood of Osana-Wo. As the last archer’s head went sailing into the sky and his body exploded, the fire was too much for the Zukozuko to bear. The ronin collapsed to his knees, then fell face first into the mud made of churned ash and blood. Makoto rushed to his friend’s side.

Dizzy from blood loss, O-Hinku gasped for breath. Her hands were shaking. Her muscles begged to stop. There was a ragged line of yobanjin between her and Kenzan’s banner. Had they stopped the archers in time?

The banner dipped and fell.

O-Hinku screamed as rage consumed her. The barbarians would pay for that insult! Without thought, she vaulted over the stone fortification of the archer’s position and ran downhill into the knot of enemies. Her ono was a blur as limbs were removed from bodies, then the battle seemed to open around her.

A barbarian, nearly a head taller than his brothers, was waiting for her as the mob of clashing bodies swarmed all around them. O-Hinku was completely surrounded, but she did not care. She would lift that banner or die trying. Hida Kenzan’s mon lay crumpled beneath filthy fur boots and that was unacceptable. The chieftain lifted a mighty curved sword and taunted O-Hinku in an alien tongue.

They clashed. His sword caught her armor as her ono cut a gash in his cheek. Weeping tears of fire, the chieftain circled. He struck with blinding speed, slashing deep into O-Hinku’s side. Grinding her teeth together, she struck back repeatedly, slamming his sword down further with each mighty blow. The chieftain’s eyes widened in fear as his sword shattered. O-Hinku removed his hand at the wrist, reversed her swing and demolished his knees. He hit the ground and raised his remaining hand, quivering, begging for mercy. O-Hinku lifted her ono one last time, screamed “HIDA!” and chopped his skull in half.

The tattered Crab banner rose again, fluttering and snapping in the hot wind. The river of souls flowing to Gaki-Do would run deep this day.

 #

Coming next week, the aftermath of the battle, Ide Todo finds his purpose in life, and the plot thickens. http://larrycorreia.wordpress.com/2011/11/18/the-burning-throne-episode-5-aftermath/