Added two new ebooks to the bookstore on my site. Look in the Fantasy section for tales of King Arthur as a teen.
This is the cover of one of two Young King Arthur stories I've added to my bookstore.
If you treasure the legends of King Arthur and Merlin and loved the Once and Future King by T.H. White, then you're going to enjoy the journey I'm taking you on with this series of exciting tales about Arthur as a teenager and the problems he experienced growing up in a kingdom run rampant with evil and lawlessness thanks to the evil King Uther Pendragon and Morgana Le Fey.
Take a peek when you have the time and the inclination.
It takes a long time to program this stuff, so I'll probably be dribbling them into the bookstore one or two at a time until I've caught up with all my works. Meanwhile...
Enjoy and have a great weekend!
You may say that size doesn't matter -- these guys disagree!
The Super Soldier
"A Rocketman Story"
By John Pirillo
"Rockets!" Harry cried out and everyone scattered as he blasted past them, accelerating faster and faster, a trail of radiant energies lighting his path.
Techs and ground crew hid behind blast shields, not wanting to get exposed to the radiation, which they already knew from Einstein and Harry personally, was unstable and had some pretty drastic side effects, like projecting Harry back and forth through time, from the time of World War Two at a crucial moment of battle there, to the future where the Nazis ruled the planet because the Allies had been too late in stopping them.
Harry's so-called plate was full of sour grapes. The girlfriend he would never see again because he had been frozen in time on the real world and didn't wake up until she was long dead, and only her daughter and granddaughter still lived. That was the future Harry world, where Nazis ran rampant and destructive. However, in the first timeline Harry had been flying his rocket suit, the war had not yet been decided. In that war he was flung away from his loved one for another reason, to protect the secrecy of the project he lead...Rocketman. A rocket suit that allowed him to fly faster than even the Nazi buzz bombs. He had broken the sound barrier in that particular life stream, but in the present one, which seemed to become more and more of late the one he would live the last of his day sin, he had an incredible suit that had been updated and used tech that was unheard of in his original timeline.
In this timeline Einstein and Tesla worked together as a team to build his suit, and his weapons. The base was pretty much the same though, hidden high in the Swiss Alps, overlooking a beautiful lake below. In this life stream it was overrun by Nazis Warlords and Storm Troopers, and the occasional Super Soldiers, genetically enhanced monsters that stood over eight feet tall and could take a lot of punishment before going down.
Jet waved as he shot out the secret entrance and he toggled his suit slightly several times in acknowledgement and angled up towards the stars. He never flew during the day unless the weather was almost catastrophically bad, because they didn't dear let the Nazis know what they had and where they had it. If they did, it would be end game. Nazis win, no more free men anywhere to resist them.
Oh sure, there'd be a few here and there, but doomed to failure because of the lack of technical and weapons support. Harry was the support here. They had spies all over the place in secret resistance movements, who would flag important troop movements, supply trains...in time line, they were super fast bullet trains that hovered above the tracks and flew like rockets on their antigravity streams.
Harry had taken out one about a month ago and it had almost taken him with it, if not for Jet. Sometimes they flew together. He had a harness he could carry Jet with, but Jet hated it, and had no problem conveying that message.
Lately, Einstein and Tesla had come up with a lighter version of the Rocketman suit and let Jet test it out. It worked perfectly for about ten flights and then dumped him into the side of a mountain, which fortunately for Jet, was snow packed, or else he'd have driven ten feet through solid rock, instead of thirty through ice and packed snow.
It had taken Harry almost twenty four hours to reach his friend, who had been almost frozen to death waiting to be rescued.
"Harry." Jet called out.
"Are fingers supposed to be blue?"
"On Christmas morning."
"Funny. How about toes?"
"Now you've really got me roaring."
"Hang on, Harry I'm shoveling as fast as I can."
"Where's the techies when you need them?"
"A thousand miles away."
"Yeah. Happens a lot to guys like me."
"You know...I'm black."
Harry roared with laughter.
"What's so funny?"
"The only thing black about you is your attitude; the rest of you is a nice chocolate cream."
"Thanks a lot, that's really encouraging.'
"You're welcome buddy."
Harry looked at his rocket suit, leaning against the slope of snow and ice. It had melted in partially from the heat of the burners in back, but otherwise it was upright, with a gaping hole where he usually climbed into it. Lucky for Jet, he had an emergency kit built into both legs of the suit, one of which had an extensible aluminum shovel.
"Getting a bit warm in here, Harry."
"Yeah. It's just balmy as hell out here too."Harry replied. "I got pretty nurses lined up for a mile applying to work at our ice cream stand."
"Don't even go there, you monster."
"What? Hate ice cream?"
"No, hate eating it alone."
"No problem, pal. Almost there."
Something threw a huge shadow across Harry's view into the hole he was digging and over him. He turned around slowly.
"I've got a little problem."
"What Betty Boop wanta audition for your talent show?"
"Funny. No, a bit bigger than that."
Harry reached for his side arm, and then realized it was lying inside the suit, all bright, clean and shiny.
"Another small problem."
Harry angled away from the hole to give himself maneuvering room. In front of him stood a Super Soldier. It was missing an eye, and he could see some of its metallic brain pan gleaming on its left side, where something had gashed the skin away. The Super Soldiers were genetically enhanced soldiers, but also physically as well, a combination of metal, electronic circuits and wildly firing genomes.
"What's your problem look like?"
Harry spoke a bit more softly into his throat mike. "It's closing in."
"That's no problem."
"I'll try to lead it way from you. You've only got about three feet of packed snow behind you."
"What in the hell am I supposed to do, kick it out?"
"Hey! Sounds like you're not only chocolate as hell, but brainy as old Al himself."
"I'm going to kill you when I get outta here, pal."
"Be my guest, but you might have to wait in line."
Harry charged the Super Soldier who turned slightly, revealing that one eye was dangling from its socket. It shoved it back in and it promptly fell back out again. Harry snatched some snow, packed it tight and flung it into its good eye.
"Roar!" The Super Soldier screamed, temporarily blinded by the substance in its good eye.
Harry launched himself and struck the soldier in its midsection, knocking it backwards. It teetered on the edge of the drop it had climbed out of, and then regained traction and swatted Harry away from the edge like a tiger swatting a fly.
Harry flew through the air and struck a huge frozen rock. He lay stunned there, his senses reeling while the Super Soldier struggled to get its other eye back into its socket. It also looked for a weapon. Its weapon belt was empty. Whatever had happened to it, it was weaponless. But for a creature like that, it didn't need much of a weapon, its body was a pretty good stand in. It could crush Harry's skull if it every got its hands on him long enough.
Harry rolled over as a huge fallen branch in the hands of the soldier smashed into the stone he had lain against and shattered into a thousand pieces. The soldier roared angrily and charged after Harry, who saw his chance and launched himself in between two large trees, smashing in to some thick brush, where he hid behind, while the soldier tried to figure out exactly where he was. He was counting on the soldier's weaker mind to think he had kept going.
It didn't. Something changed in the equation, Harry realized. This soldier was not just super mean and super strong, but also clever.
He felt, rather than heard the movement behind him. He rolled aside as a huge fist punched past his face and smashed into the side of the tree he was near. The tree shook from the violence of the blow and split down the middle.
"Harry, you still alive out there?"
"Not for long."
"Don't worry, pal, I got your back."
Harry rolled a new direction as the giant soldier kicked at his face. He caught the foot and twisted. The giant soldier roared and collapsed to the ground. It got up again, its face glowering with intense hatred, and eagerness. Eagerness to smash him to a pulp.
"Look, big guy, I know we kinda started out a bit on the cold side of things." Harry laughed.
The soldier gave him a blank look.
Harry paused. What was wrong?"
Then the soldier slowly began toppling towards him. Harry threw himself out of the way as the soldier fell to the ground where he had laid, a huge piece of metal stuck in its back, yellow and red blood pouring out.
The giant soldier's one eye looked at Harry a moment, glowering with anger and hatred, and then as if a light switch had been flicked off, it dimmed and the being was lost to the world.
Jet came strolling out, smacking himself to get warm. "Man, you throw one helluva birthday party."
"It's not my birthday."
"Oh, in that case, maybe we should go home. I got things to do, places to be."
Jet had given him a hand up and he had helped Jet to load his jetpack onto Harry's suit, strapping it tight with metal bands, then he brought out the harness.
"How about I fly, and you ride?"
"Won't fit me. Made for you."
Jet's eyes narrowed. "You're sure about that."
"Would I ever lie to you, Jet?"
Harry laughed and Jet got into the harness.
They flew back home safe and sound.
Harry sighed to himself as he waggled his suit one more time at his friend watching him. War was hell, but friends were heaven. He shot upwards like a rising star.
Monsters are Real
"A Samuel Light Story"
By John Pirillo
Monsters are real.
They hide in plain sight.
They hide under beds.
They hide in closets.
They hide in the uniforms of policemen.
They are hidden in the hallways of schools.
They are real.
I know so, because I've seen them.
But they're not like you think.
They're invisible to most people, except some like me, who are blessed...or cursed...depending on your viewpoint...and able to see the creatures.
Now you'd probably like to know what they look like, how horrible they are. My answer will not satisfy your need to know. Nor will it make you a braver person, nor a calmer person. It might, as a matter of fact, quite frankly, scare you to death. Though that...not literally.
You see monsters are not the things you see in movies, or on TV, or in the games you play. Not even in your imagination when you read a book or in the comics you purchase. No, monsters are real, not fantasy things made up by people to make money.
Monsters are people.
Like Saddam Hussein.
Like Jeffrey Dauhmer.
They are people who have died. Some horribly. Some of disease. Some in car accidents, train wrecks, plane crashes, or from gang murders. But for whatever reason a person dies, they are all faced with a choice...to go into the Light, or to go into the Darkness.
The monsters choose NOT to go into the Light. And the confused sometimes too. That's what brings me into the picture. To help those who may have chosen to go into the darkness by mistake. To help them get back on track. To align them once more with the Bigger Picture.
That tunnel of white light doesn't go straight to hell, but to heaven's door. Another world. Dimension where you never grow old. You never die. You never starve or get sick. The world we're all supposed to head towards when it's our time to kick this heavy costume...body...off and away and reach into the land where the true reality lies.
This whole world is an illusion. Just a stinking well made one. One that is sustained by ignorance and suffering. Some of it intended. Some not.
My name is Samuel Light. And I'm a detective. A spiritual detective.
I can touch something or someone and know what ever I'm supposed to know at that time...usually how to help them. Sometimes how to deal with them so I, myself, am not harmed. But usually to guide the lost souls who have decided to meander on the walkway of life and illusion, rather than waltz into the Big Hootzpah of Delight that God wants us all to jump into. Heart and soul.
I do this work for a living. But I also do it for love. I usually don't make a lot of money. The people I help don't usually carry cash on them, nor have a bank account. In fact they don't usually have a physical body, which kind of complicates my life when I, who have a physical body, need to buy something to eat or drink, pay my taxes, my rent, or put gas in my car.
But that's not what this story is about. This is.
It was hot. Usually is in August. Smashing down into every cell of your body, making you feel like the proverbial turkey in the oven. Except that's it not an oven. It's Nevada. Las Vegas, Nevada. Maybe not as bad as out in the desert itself, but since Las Vegas is sprawled in one of the hottest deserts on the planet, it should come as no surprise to anyone, that this place can stew your gizzard as surely as a soup pot does.
"Eventually." I said.
Jimbo wiped his mop of hair and his forehead with one of his hammy fists, and then eyed me uncertainly. "This isn't one of those philosophical times, is it? Because if it is, I'm going to apply for my vampire's license and suck a little blood here."
He wasn't kidding.
We were both totally dehydrated. Squished dry by the lack of moisture in the air, on the ground and in our bodies. I was all up for just lying down and dying, but Al...He's my invisible friend.
Oh, didn't I tell you about him yet? You see Al's this angel guy that got attached to me when I was a kid. He's been bothering me. (Don't get angry, Al. Just kidding.) Bothering me since I was a pre-adolescent nightmare, waking up screaming at night because I could see these invisible beings leering at me and making horrible faces for the fun of it.
He would chase them away and everything would drop back to normal. I'd just sleep uneasily, fearful they would return, but knowing that at least I had someone who understood what was going on. I told my Mom of course. My Dad wasn't there. He never was. Abandoned me as a child. Happens. Not happily. But often. And not nicely.
Al gave us both thumbs up. I saw it. Jimbo didn't. Jimbo, my very best friend and partner in the crime of helping people, had gotten us both into this latest mess. You see, Jimbo, is this very rugged, and handsome tall fellow who just can't say no to the opposite sex, especially when there was the possibility of...you know what....moans and more moans in it.
It all began last Friday. We were seated outside a Starbucks, enjoying a malted coffee. It's this specialty item where they top the coffee with crème malt and dump lots of ice into it. Very cooling. Not very nourishing, of course, but who drinks sugar for nourishment anyway?
"Hey, Big Guy!" A lovely voice rang out.
We both turned to look. Which Big Guy? I'm a bit taller than Jimbo, but slender. He's bumping six two, but broader and thick muscled. We both work out, but he looks like he does. I don't.
She was great. About five nine with sparkling blue eyes. Aren't they always? Eyes that could drill holes right through your head and into your heart. Jimbo was so excited that he accidentally spilled his coffee all over me. Accident? Probably not.
I jumped up. "Jimbo!"
He used the accident to look good. He used his napkin and mine to help mop up the coffee from my now chocolate white pants. They had been starched and bleached just that morning. He gave me a kind look. "Sorry, Sammie."
"Yeah. Sure." I grumbled.
He finished, and then turned to face the blonde. "I know you?"
Of course he didn't. But Jimbo was what we guys call a mean grinder, or babe magnet. He could turn on the charm, like you might turn on a radio. Tuning it as high as was needed to get his object of affection locked and loaded into his love barrel.
"You, Samuel Light?"
Jimbo's smile vanished for a moment, and then graciously, he bowed aside to point at me.
I smiled. "Don't mind him, he's recently been detached from the family of apes and doesn't know how to manage his chromosomes just yet."
That's how it all started. Then she told us about an incident. Not just any incident, mind you, but one in which a dead relative had come to visit her...naked and hot to...well, you know. Do what relatives shouldna, hadna, ought not to.
I sat down. Even though I was already seated. Jimbo had meandered off for three more coffees while she spoke to me, then sat down and spread the gold around. He noted her stressed look, and then eyed me. "You ask her out already?"
She gave me a startled look, and then a suspicious one.
Jimbo put a hand over hers. "Don't let this fool, fool you. He may be good with ghosts, but he's bad luck when it comes to mortal women."
I laughed again. I shouldn't have. It always cemented his stupid talk and shot me in the foot.
She pulled her hand away from his, and then stood up. "Maybe I have come to the wrong guys to help me.
I took her hand.
I saw this frizzy haired old, naked man leering at her as she lay in her bed, undressed and ready to sleep. She was beautiful as an angel. He was gross and quite frankly...gross. I could see straight through him.
"Wanta?" He asked, playing with himself.
I was back. She gave me a startled look. I her.
"He's gross." I said quite frankly. "No charge."
Jimbo spit his coffee out all over the place. "What!" On her look he recanted. "I mean, what else can we do? It's obviously something we need to do to help this young and very sad girl."
She didn't believe a word of it, anymore than I, but she bought my talk. "You saw him, didn't you?"
"How did you know that?"
"Because I was there with you."
Either I was cranking up the spiritual juice, or I had just met someone of a similar nature.
Wrong to both.
The next day we were supposed to meet her near Stateline. We got up early to do so. Jimbo drove his big, honking truck. The one that cost him a few hundred grand. Did I tell you he came from a rich family? We talked about what we were going to do once we met with her. Jimbo kept shaking his head, giving me the evil eye, but I insisted. He finally relented and drove the rest of the way in silence. He only said one thing. "You're such a poor loser."
We drove off the 15, and turned towards a dirt road that swept into the hills. We drove about an hour, and then pulled over when we saw her car. She said it would be a bright red. It was. An old one too. Maybe twenty years. But clean. For that old that is.
She wasn't in sight.
"Where the hell is she?" He asked, as he went to the car to look inside.
I went to the back and he popped the trunk. I looked inside. Straight into the barrel of a sawed off shotgun and one of the ugliest fellows I had ever seen.
"Jimbo." I muttered.
He came around, his arms raised. She was behind him with another sawed off shotgun.
The ugly fellow climbed out of the trunk and blew a kiss to her. "Works like a charm."
"Always does." She said, catching the look on my face.
"What? Just because I'm psychic like you doesn't make me a do gooder."
"What about that naked fellow?" Jimbo asked, vexed at what was happening.
"Oh that's real all right." She admitted. "But nothing I can't handle."
She jerked her head to the man, and he went through Jimbo's pockets, grabbed his car keys, and then headed for the truck.
Jimbo groaned. "Not Betty. Please!"
She winked at him. "We'll make sure Betty gets a nice home. Bye, Big Guy!"
She winked again, then as the truck spun to life again, turned around and said. "By the way, drop your pants and kick off your shoes, then your shirts."
"Wait!" Jimbo blurted out. "We'll die out here with that kind of exposure and no water."
She tossed him a haughty look. "Sometimes a big guy just don't get a break, do they?"
Well. We finally reached the 15 and when we did a highway patrol car pulled up, and then a door was flung open for us. We climbed in. The Patrolmen gave us a grim look. "Looks like you guys are gonna tan badly."
"Part of the job." I told him.
He nodded, gunned the engine and sped us up about ten miles where a roadblock was set. At the roadblock was Jimbo's truck.
The tires had blown out.
The blonde and the ugly fellow were in handcuffs. She saw us in the car and gave us the three finger salute.
I grinned and waved at her.
Jimbo laughed, and then scowled at me. "Why do you always have to be so damned right?"
"Look, Jimbo, I was fooled too at first too, but something stunk about the way she played us. And...She didn't ask me about everything I had seen when I touched her."
"What was that?"
"The ugly fellow she saw wasn't her Uncle, but the fellow with the sawed off shotgun. It was their way of doing romance before they made love."
"Hey 50 shades of whatever." I answered, and then we got out, with blankets draped around our shoulders and headed for the truck and a long drive home.
Yeah. I'm psychic, but sometimes I just don't like how my cases turn out. My name's Samuel Light. I'm a spiritual detective, spelled with an S. You might ask why didn't I avoid the whole mess altogether? Reason not. She and her boyfriend had a lesson to learn. One that will probably lead to about twenty to thirty years hard time.
A splendid new crop of those colorful critters known as fractal flames. I teach about them in my school classes because they are so cool to look at and give a sense of wonder to a world that is oftentimes too filled with shades of gray.
Einstein's Swivel Chair
"A Jules and Wells Story"
By John Pirillo
Wells first noticed the aberration when he was working on an upgrade to the onboard flight navigator. He and Jules had come up with this very simple device that they could feed numbers into in a series of binary codes that would then turn the code into a visible interface. From that they had, with the help of their good friends Tesla and Einstein, as well as Edison, come up with lightware...another form of binary code that could be read by the device and seen as a kind of book to read, complete with instructions how to use it.
Of course, the device had to be miniaturized to be of use within the cockpit, as it had very little spare space, but they managed to fit it under the bombing station, which had a spare foot in it.
"That should do it." Tesla had decided after hooking up the string engine to the small device.
"Do what?" Watson had asked. They were giving him a tour of their work. Sherlock had declined because he was supposedly off on vacation in the Scots, but they knew better. He never took vacations and he was never a person to relax for long. He was up to something that they were sure out sooner than later, and more than likely...once more...would require the entire Baker Street team to chip in with their skills to solve, squash, or destroy it. Such was life for the people associated with him.
"Do exactly what it needs to do." Einstein said from his perch on the pilot's chair. He swiveled in it like a child, enjoying the freedom of it.
"I really must get one of these for my office."
Wells, poking his head in from back, grinned. "Done. When would you like one?"
He and Jules, who was in the co-pilot's chair exchanged grins. "Oh, I think that could be arranged."
Einstein laughed. "You two make a mockery of my Universal Field Theory."
Watson glanced at Einstein. "That dratted thing makes a mockery of a man's intellect."
They all laughed, except for Watson, who was serious.
Jules quickly diverted to another topic. "So you think our machine..."
"You should call it a putter." Watson ventured. "It makes this tiny put put sound."
"That's the energy conversion going on." Tesla pointed out. "When the energy gets converted from the String universe to ours, there's a kind of dimensional boom."
Jules brightened. "The Wright Brothers claim that one day planes will break that dimension and the atmosphere will shatter with an explosion."
"A kind of sonic boom, hey?" Watson asked.
Einstein tapped Watson on his arm. "You're brighter than you look, Doctor."
At first Watson took that as a compliment and blushed, and then he caught on and glared at Einstein, who giggled like a school girl, got up and squeezed through his friends to exit. "Good luck with the flight, boys. Let me know how it all turns out."
He looks back and winks. "After you've dropped off that...uh...revolving chair."
Watson turned also. "Enough of this. My head's starting to hurt. It's bad enough to put up with Holmes and his outrageous theories, without busting my brain cells over this...bing...theory."
"String." Jules and Tesla spoke at the same time.
"Yes, that thing." Watson agreed, and then also exited.
Tesla patted the box he had installed the lines to. "I think putter is not a bad name at all."
Wells nodded. "Then putter it is."
Jules frowned. "Perhaps we should make sure out little device is protected from intellectual thieves."
Tesla gave him a look that asked a million questions.
Jules smiled. "In the future people will steal ideas if you don't protect them."
"Whatever for, my dear man." Tesla said. "There's so many out there."
"Some are just lazy." Wells responded.
"Or stupid." Jules added. "With greed."
"Oh yes, there's that." Tesla agreed. "Well boys, I'm off to. Got to help the old man solve his next momentous equation."
"You two have been working a lot together lately." Wells said.
"True enough. Edison has been off to the India Isles, working on some kind of device that harnesses prana."
"Prana?" Wells asked with a frown. "Not air?"
"Indeed. Air." Tesla said with a grin. "But air that's been revitalized through yogic means."
Jules shook his head. "Next thing you know someone's going to be telling us we need to meditate to help our hearts and bodies."
Wells laughed. "We'll be long dead before that happens, Jules."
"Mon Frere, I pray that is so."
Tesla shook their hands, and then also exited.
Jules tapped the pilot's chair.
Wells eyed it with eyebrows raised. "So soon, old chap?"
"Never too soon, Mon Frere."
"I see." Wells said, positioning himself at the controls. "You are eager to get into more mischief then."
"Always. I have never enough of it at home."
Wells barked with laughter. "Your children are enough mischief for a dozen men."
Jules brightened. "That is because they take after me."
They both laughed.
The Master of the World's String engines warmed up rapidly. Jules nursed them through the stages: entrance, magnetize indraw and energize. The four states of String energy. The first caused it to enter our dimension, the second to feed the engines, the third to phase it between both dimemsions and the last to direct the engines where ever in time and space they desired.
Wells looked to Jules, who nodded. He started to cause the Master of the World to rise on beams of bright String fields, when Jules suddenly barked out. "Wait!"
Wells settled the ship down and waited as Jules dashed from the cockpit through the lengthy middle and to the door, which he opened, allowing the ramp to fall down quickly. He plumetted down the ramp, not even breathing hard and dashed into a side room, where a brand new swivel chair stood.
He grinned, then hefted it easily and ran back outside, through the warehouse, up the ramp, which Wells activated from the cockpit. Before he had even stepped into the safety of the passenger compartment, the ship was sealed and lifting. He set the chair down, and then hurried back to the cockpit, where he strapped himself in.
"So what now?" Wells asked, fully knowing what Jules would ask next.
Wells set the co-ordinates and Jules gave the engines their needed juice.
The Master of the World lifted up from the warehouse for a moment, and then was surrounded by a bright penumbra, which promptly vanished. It lowered back into the warehouse. Jules unstrapped, went into the passenger compartment and exited, just as Einstein leading John Watson and Tesla entered the warehouse, all talking excitedly.
Jules went to Einstein with the chair in his arms and offered it to him.
"A little something from the future."
Einstein gave Jules a puzzled look, but when Jules set it down, sat upon it and spun. Einstein began laughing like a small girl. It's absolutely marvelous. For me? Really?"
Jules stood up and made way for Einstein, who sat upon it, then began spinning it around.
Inside the Master of the World Wells watched with a set of binoculars, his face wide with a smile.
"Sometimes time travel is not such a bad thing."
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