by Michael La Ronn | Apr 15, 2018 | Novel Snippets
Ten feet.
That was the distance between me and a flesh-eating demon that wanted to rip my face off.
The Somnient stalked toward me, a stocky, compact beast that looked like a demonic pit bull with a cavernous mouth of spiky yellow teeth. The smell of sulfur and rotten eggs poured from its mouth, making me want to vomit. It dragged its gnarly claws, leaving a trail of melting snow and rocks behind it.
The beach around us was filled with snow-capped rocks. Running wasn’t an option.
Behind me, the ice cracked on Lake Linette, the city’s great lake that was oh-so-beautiful in the summer, but a major problem for me now because I had nowhere else to run. In the overcast sky, the lake was a gray wasteland, its waves frozen in mid-crest.
I stepped back, and my foot hit a rock. I tripped and stumbled, but I regained my balance, jumping onto the rock.
The Somnient growled, baring its teeth.
“Seriously,” I said. “You have nothing better to do than eat people’s minds from the inside out, do you?”
The Somnient roared.
“It’s negative bazillion degrees outside,” I said. “Shouldn’t you be hibernating?”
The Somnient closed the gap, pouncing onto a rock.
“I keep hoping that one of these days when I talk to you demons, that you’ll talk back, and we can conversate or something,” I said. “Actually, forget I said that. I don’t even want to know what your voice would sound like. It would probably sound like the apocalypse.”
I jumped backward, landing on another rock nearby. Needed to keep my distance.
I hadn’t seen a Somnient since I killed the demon king a while back. The demon population decreased since then, and Somnient sightings were down across the city, which meant I could spend less time demon hunting and more time doing things I loved, like being with my cousins, drinking Prosecco, watching Star Trek…
Any day I didn’t have to deal with these dream-eating demons was a good day.
Now I had to figure out exactly how I was going to dismantle this demon before it made a mess of my client’s dream.
The bitter cold wind blew, damn near knocking me off the rock.
That’s the kind of winter we were having in Kemiston this year—it was cold, even in people’s freaking dreams.
A dreamlike voice spoke from above.
“Didn’t take this bad boy long to show up,” Destiny said.
She was watching the dream, even though she wasn't physically with me. On a day like this, I envied her for not having to do the hard work.
“Won’t take me long to get rid of him,” I said.
Reaching into the air, I felt dream ether pulsating all around me. It buzzed through my body.
I grinned at the Somnient.
“Last chance to repent for your foolish ways, talk to Jesus, or do whatever it is that you demons do to be saved,” I said.
Nothing. The demon didn’t even crack a smile.
“Okay,” I said. “Now it’s time for me to rip your face off.”
“Cuz, strike your pose and do a quarter turn,” Destiny said. “You know, like they do in the magazines.”
“Really?” I asked. “You're giving me posing directions while I fight?”
“Not me,” Destiny said. “It's the client’s photographer.”
I pulled the dream ether into my hands, and I willed it to become bright lines of light that swirled all around me like an overexposed photo.
I extended my hands as if I were shooting the light at the Somnient.
Winking, I willed the rock to disappear, knocking the Somnient onto its stomach.
“More,” Destiny said.
“More?” I asked. “That wasn’t good enough?”
“The wizard tech thingy won’t work right unless you keep going,” Destiny said. “He says to drag this fight out a bit more.”
“Has this photographer ever fought a Somnient before?” I asked. “I shouldn't let this thing live for too much longer.”
“Girl, will you just shut up and pose?” Destiny asked angrily.
Sighing, I composed myself.
The demon jumped to its feet.
I smiled, putting on my best confident smile, imagining myself in a photo shoot.
Because I was in a photo shoot.
Well, kind of.
A real life demon hunt slash photo shoot with no camera, that is.
Ever since we saved the city from a nightmare train hell-bent on death, we were minor celebrities. The city’s news magazine wanted to feature us. Darius was recording my every move with one of his wizard tech thingies that I had no idea how to explain.
“Time to have some fun with this,” I said.
I flipped into the air, spinning several times as I willed the dream ether to gather above me.
*********
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by Michael La Ronn | Mar 15, 2018 | Novel Snippets
Nightmares.
They sweep into a dream like a summer thunderstorm—suddenly and out of nowhere.
I was deep inside a client’s dream when I lost my control over her mind.
Floating through a corridor of fog, with a thousand hazy screens of jumbled up memories around me, I was watching scenes from a woman’s life that I couldn’t be sure were true. The dream was a soup of sounds, smells, and lights.
The fog thickened and the mindscape grew stuffier. An intense wave of fear passed through me. It wasn’t my fear; it was my client’s. I felt it taking hold and spreading across her mind.
I snapped my fingers.
Nothing.
The dream ether that filled her mind had vanished. Normally, it pulsed just out of sight, always ready for me to dig into it with my fingers and manipulate the dream.
But it was gone.
Shit.
I tried to make sense of the memory screens in spite of what I knew was coming.
My growing anxiety suddenly made it hard for me to concentrate.
One by one, the memories flickered off, leaving me floating in the empty space of the dream, surrounded by fog.
I hadn't had time to make sense of anything. I’d barely had a chance to get my bearings in the dream before the dreamscape started to change.
“Aisha, you better get out of there,” a booming voice said.
Destiny, my cousin.
She was watching the dream with me, even though she wasn’t physically present. Her dreamlike voice was a welcome distraction from the changing atmosphere. I imagined her in falcon form, perched on a bird post next to the bed where the woman was dreaming, watching with one eye open to the real world while she slept.
“Darius says Allegra’s heart rate is increasing,” she said. “We in for a nightmare.”
“That’s what I expected,” I said. “I just didn’t think I’d lose this much control so soon. I'm going to need Allegra’s help. Can you induce a lucid dream, please?”
“A lucid?” Destiny asked. “We ain’t done that in a while. You sure, cuz?” Destiny asked.
“Positive,” I said.
Lucid dreams were those dreams one has every once in a while where they’re fully aware that they are dreaming. They’re somewhat in control of the dream, too, able to think, move, and interact with the environment meaningfully. Sending a client lucid had its pros and cons. Actually, more pros than cons.
“I'll tell Darius, but I don't think this is a good idea,” Destiny said.
“Hello?” I asked. “I'm the dream mage, remember?”
The last thing I needed right now was Destiny trying to tell me how to use my powers.
I waited impatiently.
Slowly, a human form began to take shape in the fog next to me. First a shadow, then the silhouette of a body that traced itself into full form.
My client, Allegra da Silva.
A worrywart kind of woman—the worst I’ve ever met. Even in sleep, her face looked fretful. She must have been my age—about twenty-five—and I found it hard to believe that someone could worry so much about life and still be alive.
But at least she had a generous heart.
I pulled her closer to me, and she floated as if she were underwater.
I brushed my hand across her face, brushed a curly hair aside, and tried to help her consciousness become aware of the dream.
I didn't like interacting with people while they dreamt. I preferred to watch the dreams and interject as I needed to.
But this woman had come to my shop a few nights ago, fear in her bloodshot eyes, hardly able to speak because she was stuttering so much. Through a lot of hot chocolate, we finally got her to calm down. With her thick accent, she told us that she dreamt of people dying.
When she woke up, they did.
And it was true. A couple glances at the news websites with mysterious deaths in subway stations all across the city gave her some credibility.
And she had money, was willing to pay, and was desperate for help, so naturally I took her case.
Allegra opened her eyes.
She blinked a few times and I knew she was truly with me now.
“Welcome to your dream,” I said.
***
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by Michael La Ronn | Feb 15, 2018 | Novel Snippets
Pro magic tip: demons always show up when you least expect them. As I shoveled a barrier of snow in front of my shop, three of them appeared on the roof, roaring against the wintry moon.
I took a few steps back, the cold snow seeping into my boots.
The demons focused on me, their spinning, blue nebula-like eyes glowing, their smooth black horns dull in the moonlight. Four-legged, with the build of a pit bull and the teeth of a shark, they stalked down the side of the building—an old brownstone in the heart of the city—growling at me. Their claws scratched against the brick and left long white marks.
“So it's gonna be like this, huh,” I said.
I let down my hood, and the wind blew my hair about. The chill tore through my face, and I could hardly feel my cheeks. My eyes watered in the bone-chilling cold.
Fourth demon encounter this month. The magic suppressant charms weren’t working.
“Darius,” I said, throwing a snowball against the window. “Get out here and see what you did.”
Darius’s lanky frame was a shadow in the front of the shop, and he was sweeping the floor. I threw another snowball.
He stuck his half-braided, half-afroed head out of the door, shivering in the cold.
“It’s too cold out here to be playing, cuz,” he said.
And then he heard the growling and looked up slowly.
“Damn,” he said, shaking his head. “Why does this always happen around two o’clock in the morning?”
“You only have one job,” I said, gripping my shovel tightly. “Protection spells are not supposed to be that hard.”
“Ain’t my fault,” Darius said, shuddering. “You know I can cast that spell with the best of them.”
He grabbed a puffy coat with a fur collar, threw it on, and joined me in the snow. His hands glowed with warm fire, and the flames bloomed all the way up his arms, suffusing his face in an orange glow. He yawned.
Darius was my cousin. A wizard.
Not the kind you’re probably imagining in your head right now—you know, the wizard with a pointy hat, a star-swept robe, and a gray beard, but a black, eighteen year-old wizard who loved South Pole jackets and who routinely forgot to do his chores—namely, casting a protection spell around my shop. A wizard whose magic and lack thereof always got his big cousin into trouble. But he could throw fire and cast spells like a boss whenever the Somnients showed up, so I usually forgave him.
“At least these bad boys didn’t show up when the sky was really dumping snow on us,” Darius said.
The beasts landed in the snow and inched toward us, breathing smoke and sulphur.
Click here to grab your copy of Dream Born. by Michael La Ronn | Nov 15, 2017 | Novel Snippets
Here is another snippet from my upcoming series, Moderation Online. If you missed last month's snippet, check it out here.
***
CITY OF NEW EATON, Middle Rind
Kendall Barnes walked the streets of the Middle Rind with a giant knife and fork in his back pocket.
He emerged from a dirty alley into an avenue of cereal box and soda bottle skyscrapers lit up on every floor.
Rivers of people moved up and down the sidewalks. Walking alongside them were anthropomorphic candy bars, boxed dinners, doughnuts, and other processed foods, each with bright packaging and droopy eyes, adding artificial color to the area.
The humans smiled as they walked in half-struts, half-waddles, mumbling to themselves and licking their lips. Many were overweight and obese.
The foods (called Gourmans) were at least one to two feet taller than the humans and, with the exception of a few wide ones, were mostly skinny and lean. Some mingled with the humans, laughing and cracking jokes; others looked serious and as if they were on their way to somewhere important.
Enormous, three-story tall LED screens on every building streamed glitzy commercials fighting to catch the attention of the crowd.
In the street, traffic zipped by, each car and hovercycle leaving a trail of sparkling, colorful light behind it.
Kendall took in the busy street and snapped his fingers in a jazzy rhythm. He inhaled, taking in every delicious smell of his city, then he exhaled, smiling.
“Gonna be a good night.”
He had chosen his long white t-shirt, jean shorts, and green basketball shoes specifically for tonight. Under his shirt, he wore a smooth, golden chain that his friend, a french fry, had given him. He was determined to be the coolest-dressed black guy at the Festival of the Harvest.
Kendall skipped into the street and joined the flow of people. A TV dinner blimp floated overhead, casting an elongated shadow over everything below. A female voice echoed from a megaphone on the blimp’s bridge.
“Attention citizens: The Festival of the Harvest will begin shortly. Nonpareil Square will be closed to traffic for the rest of the evening. You may have also noticed pipes along the street . . .”
Kendall looked to his left and saw a line of green metal pipes rising up from a sewer grate. They ran parallel to the street and extended for several blocks to Nonpareil Square, where searchlights crisscrossed the dusk sky and music played from loudspeakers on the high-rises.
“Please be mindful of the pipes,” the voice said as the blimp finished crossing and the street brightened again.
Kendall had never seen the pipes before, and he wondered what they were for. As he walked past, he heard a strange bubbling sound coming from them.
An ad flashed on one of the screens and pulled him from his thoughts. A curvy blonde in a striped bathing suit appeared on the huge display. She smiled, ran her fingers through her hair, threw her head back, and laughed as bubbles rose around her. Green text scrolled across the screen: NUTRIZEEN. UNLOCK THE TRUE YOU.
Kendall swallowed and looked down at his stomach. He probably weighed three times as much as the woman on the screen. In New Eaton, being skinny was rare, but desired.
He rubbed his belly and said, “Heh heh. One of these days, I'm going to shed this negative six-pack.”
He had heard of people getting Nutrizeen injections that changed their lives completely. Their weight just fell off, leaving behind firm, fit, god-like bodies. The injections were invitation-only, and the Triumvirate claimed that they were still testing their effectiveness. Humans often talked about what they would do with brand new, athletic and fit bodies; it was a common topic around bars. Kendall himself often daydreamed about all the things he could do if he got an injection. In his mind’s eye, he saw himself with chiseled abs and thighs strong enough to crush a small watermelon. He saw himself on the beaches of Cola Bay, diving into the waves and swimming a mile without getting tired, then retiring to a beach house where he’d sit on the balcony with a drink in his hand and watch the sun sink into the clouds . . .
Three jets burst across the sky toward Nonpareil Square, shattering his fantasy with the thunderous roars of their engines.
Kendall put his hands over his ears and looked up at the huge, lumbering jail-ship shaped like a bag of chips that followed the jets. Then he joined everyone on the street as they cheered.
“There they are,” Kendall said, pumping his fists. “I'm ready to rock this festival, you best believe!”
He quickened his pace toward Nonpareil Square, and could feel the rest of the crowd doing the same.
***
Food City is Book 1 in the Moderation Online series, a new LitRPG series. Click here to grab your copy.
As always, if you’d like to support me, check out my Patreon page.
by Michael La Ronn | Oct 15, 2017 | Novel Snippets
Here's a snippet from my newly renovated upcoming series, Moderation Online (formerly known as Eaten). Cover will be ready later this month. Enjoy!
***
EARTH, North America, 2067
“Dr. Brotherton, while I appreciate that you're using breakthrough technology to treat my husband, I'm not so sure that a video game will cure him.”
Dr. Peter Brotherton suppressed a sigh as an African-American woman dabbed her moist eyes with a tissue. Two children clung to her dress with worried looks on their faces.
Through the hospital waiting room window, rain fell slanted across the blustery sky, and moonlight bathed the hospital grounds below in a pale gray.
It had been raining for the last week. Dr. Brotherton wished for sunlight, clear air, and a blue sky in which to give the bad news. But the rain fell, a relentless staccato against an undertone of thunder.
“I understand how you feel,” Dr. Brotherton said, choosing his words carefully.
Jamilla Barnes sobbed, heaving loudly. She was obese, with a round face and long dreadlocks.
Dr. Brotherton let her cry. He felt for her, like he did for all of his patients’ families, but his heart stopped breaking for them many years ago. He clasped his hands together and spoke softly.
“Your husband suffered a massive heart attack. We were able to stabilize him, but he has not woken up yet.”
“When will he wake up?” Jamilla asked.
“It’s hard to say,” Dr. Brotherton said. “It could be days, weeks, or months.”
Jamilla shook her head and wiped her eyes. “I’d like to see him.”
“I’m happy to let you in the room,” Dr. Brotherton said, “but I need to warn you about what you’re about to see.”
Here came the bad news.
The news no one ever wanted to hear because it sounded so strange.
And he was going to give it for the twentieth time this week. With no coffee in his system, no painkillers to deaden the sharp edge of burnout.
“Kendall is already inside the video game,” Dr. Brotherton said. “We have him hooked up to it, so there a lot of wires and technological things in the room.”
Jamilla frowned.
“My husband has a heart attack and you put him in a video game?” Jamilla asked.
Dr. Brotherton pursed his lips. “It’s deeper than than that. Come with me.”
***
Kendall Barnes was an obese black man who lie in a spacious hospital room. He was hooked up to a ventilator.
A coal-black VR headset lay over his eyes. A heart rate monitor blinked over the space where the eyes were. A long wire connected it to a server in the wall, which glittered behind a glass panel. Monitoring screens were mounted all over the room, measuring brain function, sleep patterns, and heart rate.
Jamilla gasped.
For Brotherton, this wasn’t anything new. Kendall looked like the wave of a thousand patients he’d seen this year. Obese, diabetic, lucky to be alive.
“All over the world, we have seen an epidemic,” Dr. Brotherton said. “I shouldn’t have to tell you this, but we’ve been seeing heart-related diseases killing people, almost as if a time bomb exploded.”
He hesitated.
Time bomb.
Poor choice of words.
“It's not like we haven't treated heart disease, but this is worse. It's devastating,” Dr. Brotherton said. “The medical societies of the world have committed to stopping this, so they partnered with gaming companies, and leading psychologists. They developed a virtual reality game experience, and we are hooking up victims’ brains to it.”
“I don’t understand,” Jamilla said, caressing Kendall’s forehead. “I signed the consent papers, but I wasn't aware of—”
“It’s quite simple,” Brotherton said. “It really is, Mrs. Barnes. In order for Kendall to live with heart disease, he’s got to make drastic lifestyle changes. But we’ve been telling patients this for decades and it hasn’t worked. This virtual reality experience—called Moderation Online—immerses them in a world that teaches them the importance of eating right. It's an ingenious game design that subconsciously steers patients into making nutritional decisions at the neural level. We have seen a tremendous amount of success from initial tests. We see drastic weight loss and lasting good habits.”
Jamilla buried her head in Kendall’s chest.
“I’ve been told it’s a paradise,” Dr. Brotherton said. “The science behind it is to take healthy foods such as vegetables, turn them into characters, and assign them names and personalities. Have you ever heard of role-playing games, Mrs. Barnes?”
***
Food City is Book 1 in the Moderation Online LitRPG series. It is a fantasy that takes place in the world of food. Click here to sign up for my email list so you can know when it launches.
As always, if you’d like to support me, check out my Patreon page.
by Michael La Ronn | Sep 15, 2017 | Novel Snippets
This month is a snippet from my first novel, Magic Souls, which has received a new cover and a new launch.
***
It was the morning of the biggest presentation of my legal career, and I spent ten minutes practicing my speech in front of a potted ficus. The bronze faces of the partners stared down at me from the wall, and I tried to imagine my face among them. If my presentation went well, I’d become a mid-level associate at the Hanover Law Firm—the most prestigious law firm in the city—and I’d finally get my own office instead of having to share a cubicle.
I hurried through the hall, swung into the conference room, and discovered that the meeting had begun without me. The partners sat around a long cedar table, watching a plasma TV mounted on the wall. They swiveled their heads toward me.
“You’re late, Bebe,” said Annette Farwell, my arch-nemesis with stilettos and perky breasts. Her designer suit made my blouse and skirt look like consignment items. She wasn’t supposed to be in this meeting. She smirked at me from the head of the table, lacing her fingers together so that everyone could see her glittering maroon nails. “I’ve been working on this case for six months, and I don’t appreciate you interrupting my presentation.”
My PowerPoint slides hovered on the TV screen. Only at the Hanover Law Firm were the partners so busy that they couldn’t tell when attorneys were stealing cases from each other.
I nearly turned green when I saw Tucker Salinas sitting at the table. He looked sexy in his black suit and red tie, and I could smell his lavender cologne across the room. His wavy hair and brown skin made him stick out in the room full of pasty white people like me.
“Wasn’t this your case, Bebe?” he said.
“Well—”
Annette raised her voice to cover mine. “Of course Bebe helped me. When she wasn’t on Facebook, she was wonderful. But time management is her weakness. It’s just like her to be late.”
I wanted to say, I’m late because you rescheduled the meeting without telling me, but what came out was something between a pout and a nervous laugh.
The managing partner shot up. “That’s all I need. It’s a tough decision—both of you do a great job. But on the basis of this case, Annette, we’re going to go ahead and promote you to mid-level associate. Bebe, we’ll discuss your performance at a later date.”
Annette draped her palms over her mouth and sucked in air. “I can’t thank you enough for recognizing my hard work.” She schmoozed around the room, shaking everyone’s hands. The partners ignored me as they filed out, and when I tried to meet Tucker’s eyes, he looked through me, too.
“It’s nothing personal,” Annette said after the last attorney left. She primped her bun with one hand and packed her portfolio with the other. “You’ll get your promotion in due time.”
I blocked the door. “You stole my case.”
“It’s so nice to finally hear you speak. I couldn’t tell if you were shocked, or if you were participating in one of your silent vegan protests again.”
“This is wrong, Annette. You never worked on this case.”
“You shouldn’t have left your computer unlocked.”
“You’re committing fraud.”
“You’re the fraud.” Annette stepped toward me. “And if you think I’m a bitch now,” she said, “I dare you to tell the partners. Then I can tell them how you broke company protocol and kissed Tucker Salinas.”
“How do you know that?”
Sure, I had kissed him. I’d had too many cocktails at happy hour—super embarrassing—but he hadn’t kissed me back.
Annette saw me thinking and laughed. “You know the rules. Any kind of personal contact is grounds for termination. I’ll make you wish that you’d dropped out of law school like you should have, and wonder why you didn’t major in English, spend the rest of your life writing erotica, and contribute to society in some meaningful way other than being a tool for my personal advancement. Go on,” she said, pointing to the door, “tell the partners.”
I didn’t know what to say. Annette pushed me aside and slammed the door behind her, leaving me alone with the lingering smell of cologne, legal pads, and betrayal.
***
Magic Souls is an interactive urban fantasy styled after Choose Your Own Adventures, but for grown ups with a storyline that changes as you read it. Click here to relive your childhood.
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