As I walk down a dimly lit street, a torrent of rain patters off the brim of my fedora. I lean against the cracked facade of a brownstone, cup my hand around a smoke, and light up. From a few yards away, I hear: “Can I get one a’ those?” I look up and see a zoot-suited figure. In the patchy, rain-slashed darkness, the only feature visible under his hat is his sickly cut of a smile—gleaming teeth, disturbingly red lips. I take a drag and say, “Get your own pal.” The unmistakable cock of a shotgun sounds to my left. I turn and see another gangster-looking fella holding a sawed-off on me. “But yours look DELICIOUS. We’re the Grammar Nazi Gang, by the way—at your service. And we’ll take your smokes.” He holds his off-hand out and makes a beckoning gesture. “Gimme.” I weigh dickhead #2 with my eyes, take a puff…and open my eReader to Echo. Magic flash. Sam Spade saunters out of the alleyway across the street, holding a bottle of liquor and smoking his own cigarette. “Leave him alone boys.” The Grammar Nazis are taken aback. “Mr. Spade,” one of them stutters. “How are you even—” He drops his smoke, takes a swig, and walks close to the one holding a shotgun. He flicks his lighter, holds it to his face…then blows a mouthful of flaming whiskey all over the gunman. I launch a cross into douchebag #1’s mug and just ‘cos this is my ad, the skies open up and a platoon of veritech fighting mechs descends to earth, randomly blowing the grammar nazis and everything else around them to complete shit.
The ol’ one-two punch: Surprise ’em with a noir detective…then a dozen or so of Robotech’s finest combat robots. Get Echo Vol. 1 on Kindle here: Vol. 1 on Kindle. Vol. 2 on Kindle here: Vol.2 on Kindle Vol. 3 on Kindle here: Vol. 3 on Kindle