joifulartist84

Aw darn, I saw this got bumped and I thought there was more to read... I haven't been online in a couple days (sick).

Definitely agree with the hon/honey/sweetheart thing. Me and my S.O. rarely call each other by our names, it's usually "baby" or "sweetheart".

Hiro is my favorite Now I'm impatient for season 3!

__________________
Salutations from my corner of the universe,
Joi


"Primitive life is very common and intelligent life is fairly rare. Some would say it has yet to occur on Earth."- Stephen Hawking

Sam Winchester

Sorry to disappoint, Joi. I hope to have the next part posted within a few days.

Sam.

__________________

columbo1977

This seems to be getting better everytime you do it.

A very good read, can't wait for more.

Columbo

__________________
Cheers

Columbo1977

Sam Winchester

Thank you, Columbo. I hope to have the next instalment posted in the next few days.

Sam.

__________________

Fossy

Ah Sam, a great read as always. I don't know how I missed this, when I was dying to read the first chapter anyway.

Couldn't find much to fault as usual.

He did have a huge reaction to that money didn't he? I would have snapped it up, but I guess your MC has his reasons. But then I'm a greedy poor writer with no scruples who hasn't had a bullet in her head lately.

Good descriptions, good dialogue and good narrative. I'm glad you didn't describe the ward too much, that was a good move - we all know what a hospital looks like.

Anyway, as always from you, very enjoyable.

__________________
Originally posted by Sam Winchester.
Fossy's good too. She gives good advice.

Sam Winchester

Thank you, Fossy! I'm glad you enjoyed it. I would have snapped the money up without blinking, but there's a reason he didn't (some huge, unbelievable reason which I'm trying to think of) and it will be made clear in the next few chapters.

Thanks for the read and the kind words. I hope to have the next part posted before the end of the day.

Sam.

__________________

Fossy

Don't you just hate that? When you have your characters doing stuff all over the place, but you still haven't figured out why they're doing it? Not that it matters while you're writing it of course, but it sticks in the back of your mind and stifles creative juices.

Maybe we could all come up with something for you, after all you're not here to surprise us, we're here to help you. You only need to surprise the guy/girl who buys your book.

I can't wait for the next installment.

__________________
Originally posted by Sam Winchester.
Fossy's good too. She gives good advice.

Sam Winchester

In his mansion in Pittsburgh, Daniel Chan leaned back in his swivel chair and pondered the latest news. So Butler had refused his offer to pay for medical expenses? Well, no surprise there. Chan had expected as much. In fact, he would have been disappointed had Butler taken the money. There are many things money can buy, but pride is not among them. Still, much had been learned over the past few hours.

Nakasoto had learned that Butler’s rehabilitation was steadily improving. Within two months he would be walking once more. While this wasn’t cause for concern, it presented a unique opportunity to Chan; one he couldn’t afford to miss.

It meant a face-to-face visit within the next two months, but Chan was not yet ready to face his former son-in-law. There were still loose ends that needed tying up and other people he needed to speak with.

A knock on the door interrupted Chan's reverie. After permission was granted, Nakasoto entered. ‘Sir, Harold Fines is here to see you. Will I show him in?’

‘Yes, Hideo. When you do, you may retire for the evening.’

‘As you wish, sir.’

Fines never cared much for appearance, which was surprising for a man of his profession. His hair was of medium length, black as a boot, and slightly receding at the edges. More often than not, he had heavy stubble on his lantern jaw. His blue eyes twinkled when he was happy, and burned when not. At six-foot-one, he was solidly built and didn’t carry the waist flab which would have been the norm for both his job and age. He was forty-five years old, and his physique spoke volumes about his training regime.

‘Please sit.’ Chan gestured to an armchair on the other side of his desk. No hand-shakes were shared; both men were anxious to get down to the crux of things. ‘What have you got for me?’ Chan’s tone was hopeful.

Technically speaking, he had nothing, save for a few untrustworthy leads. Still, he couldn’t tell Chan that. ‘I’m working on a lead at the moment. I believe there was another witness at service station that morning, and I’m in the process of tracking that person down.’

‘Witness? I thought you said there were no other cars present on the morning?’

‘There weren't. The witness worked there – he was on the pumps that morning . . . or was supposed to be. He was in the toilet when it went down.’

‘How do you know all this?’

‘Reliable source,’ Fines lied.

‘So what now? When you find this guy, will he be able to identify the robber?’

‘That’s the idea.’

‘You do whatever you have to, and I will pay you whatever you want, Mr Fines, but you find that son-of-a-bitch and get my daughter back!’

The sad truth was that kidnappings that lasted this long were rarely solved. But that wasn’t the only thing nagging at Fines. The MO didn’t fit. The robber shot dead the storekeeper, left Derek Butler for dead, and decided, instead, to kidnap Michelle Chan? Why? Like a lot of other things in this case, it didn’t make sense. ‘I will do all I can, Mr Chan,’ Fines replied, taking his leave.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The latest physical therapy session had gone well, Butler thought, recuperating in his bed, his mind beginning to wander.

If the bullet had been five inches higher . . . but Butler didn’t allow himself thoughts like that. Somewhere out there, Michelle was trapped, probably scared out of her wits, and all he could do was think about . . . no, the time for self-pity was behind him. He needed to concentrate on getting better, on walking again. The past was merely history.

Okay, what do I know? he asked himself, staring at the ceiling as though it held the answer to his question. It wasn’t a professional job, no chance. Too sloppy. The shotgun was in disrepair. So, that simply meant the robber was an amateur. Okay, not much there. What else? He obviously had to case the target, so he knew I was there. So why walk away? Why hide in my car? Why fuckin’ kidnap Michelle? Okay, not doing any good, Derek. Gotta get myself out of this fuckin’ wheelchair! Then I can do something. Okay, Mr Robber, you have my fiancé. But you’ve never met anyone like me, have you?

That much was true. Unknown to all but a few, Butler had served as a Marine for three years, until he was dishonourably discharged. In that time, he’d mastered numerous weapons, learned how to Survive, Evade, Resist and Escape in SERE school, and learned the most important art of all – stealth. A long time had passed since those days, but Butler still remembered his training.

His injuries were severe, but the foremost thing the Marines had taught him was survival. He would survive. Rehabilitation would be painful, of course, but he’d do it. He’d push it a little further than required, though, the better to speed the process up. Then the hard part would start: finding the robber, tracking his location, and preparing mind and body to deal with him. The latter would involve serious training – weights, weapon, and fitness to name a few. Then came the mental preparation, but that had already started.






Let me know what you think.




Sam.

__________________

Necromortis

I'm really engrossed in this story.

Just a few minor nitpicky things:



I may be wrong, but I believe that it should be 'There weren't' not 'There wasn't.'

Also, you talk about the bullet from the shotgun being five inches higher...but in the earlier chapter, I seem to recall a shotgun blast (indicating buckshot or something similar, versus a singular bullet) killing the cashier. Even if it was a singular bullet, a point blank shot from a shotgun should blow a hole through Butler's body...it seems more like he's recovering from a bad handgun wound to me. Maybe if you described his injuries a bit more it'd clear things up.

Aside from that, my only real criticism is that I think your transitions need work. You switch points of view almost randomly, with almost no indication that the point of view has switched until the character thinks or speaks. It makes it read slightly jerkily.

~Christian

__________________

Sam Winchester

I said if the "bullet" had been five inches higher, Necromortis. The shotgun blast killed the shopkeeper, but I'm going to make Butler's wound a bullet. Still, shotgun pellets spread out once leaving the shotgun, so it mightn't be inconceivable to think he'd survived something like that. It would be improbable, though.

As for the point of view switches, I'll see if I can make them better. Thanks for the read.

Sam.

__________________

Non Serviam

Not bad, but a bit verbose in places. Here, I'll show you--needless words in bold.

In his voluminous mansion

Modifier already encompassed by noun. It's like saying "his fast Ferarri" or "his transparent window" or "his red blood" or "his steel blade".

In other words, omit modifiers unless they aren't obvious. You could have "his slow Ferarri" or "his opaque window" or "his blue blood" or "his ceramic blade", or indeed "his small mansion".

in his swivel chair and pondered over the latest news.

There are many things money can buy, but one’s pride is not among them.

Nakasoto had learned that Butler’s rehabilitation progress was steadily improving.

Even better, "Butler was steadily rehabilitating".

There were still loose ends that needed tying up and other people he needed to speak with first.

Chan’s reverie was interrupted by a knock on his door.

A knock on the door interrupted Chan's reverie.

He was forty-five years old, and his current physique spoke volumes about his training regime.

Chan gestured to a comfortable armchair

Again with the uninformative modifiers.

No hand-shakes were shared, indicating that both men were anxious to get down to the crux of things.

Could lose these two words for one semicolon.

Chan’s tone was one of hopefulness.

Chan's tone was hopeful

The sad truth was that kidnappings that lasted this long were rarely ever solved.

The latest physical therapy session had gone well, Butler thought, lying recuperating in his bed, his mind beginning to wander.

Okay, what do I know? he asked himself, staring at the white ceiling as though it held the answer to his question.

A pink ceiling would be interesting. A white ceiling's far from unexpected, so cut the modifier.

He’d push it a little further than required, though, the better to speed the process up.

__________________
Born naked, helpless, unable to care for himself and completely open-minded, Non Serviam has subsequently surmounted all these difficulties and gone on to become a decently-clothed, self-sufficient, close-minded sod.

Sam Winchester

Thanks, Serv. Appreciate all the help.

Sam.

__________________

Sam Winchester

I've changed everything you said except one thing, Serv: "the better to". Sorry, can't take that away. I know it's two needless words, but it adds something to the sentence. It's a "Clancy-ism" I know, but something I use a lot.

Sam.

__________________

Fossy

Very intriguing Sam. Non picked what I couldn't see this morning for some reason. I knew it was wordy and a little passive, but I hadn't woken up properly to give it a good go over, but I see you've fixed it.

Well done.

__________________
Originally posted by Sam Winchester.
Fossy's good too. She gives good advice.

KangTheMad

I applaud thee. When this book comes out I will buy it. Brilliant job!

Metok' Ha'esh!

__________________
I'm not a pathetically horrible adult writer. I'm a pathetically horrible teen writer. There is a difference.