“Did she see us?” I’m crouched behind a counter in a darkened laboratory, trying to regulate my strained breathing. The question is meant for Bitefighter, my faithful 10 lb. terrier. He lifts his mustachioed face towards mine, and gives a me a grave, “Rowf!” Before I can say anything more, the lab door slams open. The silhouette of an impeccably constructed hair bob appears in the doorway. Martha Stewart pads slowly into the lab. In the ominous stillness, nothing is audible aside from the menacing squeak of her Merrill slip-ons as they rub against the aged tiles. In a threateningly soft voice she says, “Forget your stupid ads and come on out Kent…I’ve got cookies and cupcakes. Come out come out wherever you are…” My fingers curl around a heavy beaker. There’s no way I can take her face to face—I’m well aware of the hand-to-hand expertise she’s developed in prison. When she’s on the other side of the counter next to me I hear the soft swish of her blond bob as she turns her head from side to side and scans the room. I dare not breathe. Bitefighter is by my side, and also stock still. This is it. My only chance. I leap toward her, beaker held high…and suddenly I’m treated to a wing chun blast of chain punches right to my face. Two thai kicks crash into my legs and collapse my stance. Ninjutsu nerve strike to my right wrist, and the beaker falls from my numbed fingers. Finally, she jumps into an aerial twist, which unfolds an instant later into a spinning hook-kick that catches me square in the jaw and sends me flying. Out of the corner of my eyes, I see Bitefighter nipping at her heels. Just as her leg rears back to kick his tiny flank, I scream, “PALAMEDES PUBLISHING!” Magic flash. Chuck Norris and Batman crash through the window and initiate a fiery exchange of strikes and locks with Martha. Her lips curl in a snarl as she stands her ground against two martial arts legends. Chuck looks over his shoulder at me, panic writ large in his bearded face. “Run, Kent! This woman has powers beyond your ken!” I pick Bitefighter up and we flee the scene, both close to wetting ourselves from having witnessed the fury that is M. Diddy.
When you’re being stalked by a hardened ex-con with nunchuck skills, call on Palamades Publishing to save your ass. Check out their revolutionary Responsive Books software here: Responsive Books. Check out their poetry here: Manhattan They will soon offer Echo Volume 1 in paperback. For now, 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