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When Angels Cry_An Urban Fantasy Action Adventure Page 20
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His grandmother frowned. “Hush now, boy. She’s my daughter, not yours. I have plenty of room.”
Aunt Charlyce smiled. “Thanks, Mama.”
Trey shrugged. “Not gonna complain. A grown man needs to have his space.”
“I’m gonna be working, too.”
Her mother’s eyes widened. “You’ve already got a job lined up?”
“I talked to Mr. Brownstone about giving her a job.” Trey smiled and adjusted his tie. “We need an administrative assistant at the Brownstone Agency, and if you can’t trust family, who can you trust?”
His grandmother smiled, her face awash in pride like he hadn’t seen since… Hell, ever. “Look at you now, Trey! You used to be a no-good hoodlum bum.”
“Hey now, Nana. Let’s watch it. I wasn’t that bad.”
She shook her head. “We both know it, boy. You running the neighborhood with that gang causing trouble, fighting with people? You know how I’d sometimes cry, thinking, ‘What have I done to deserve this?’ That boy’s gonna end up in prison and break my heart.”
Trey groaned, and his aunt laughed.
“But things are different now. You’ve got a proper job helping people.”
“I’m still fighting,” he grumbled.
“Only bad people now. I get that. Sometimes you just have to hit a man with your cane.”
“I was only fighting bad people before.” Trey smirked. “And I’m not old. I don’t hit people with canes, you do.”
“Keep it up, boy, and I’ll hit you with my cane.” His grandmother glowered, then her expression softened. “The point is, Trey, I’m proud of you. You helped save my daughter, and you’re giving back to this community instead of taking. It don’t matter that you used to be a hoodlum. No man can change the past, not even those magic folks from Oriceran, but every man can change his future.”
Trey rolled his eyes. “I wasn’t a hoodlum.” He motioned to his suit. “Does a hoodlum wear suits like this?”
His grandmother laughed. “You weren’t wearing those suits before, boy.”
A couple of hours of reminiscing later, Trey hugged his aunt and grandmother before heading outside to his F-350. Now that the Las Vegas adventure was over, he needed to concentrate on local bounty hunting and helping improve things within the growing Brownstone Agency. Even though Royce was still whipping the men into shape, Trey would soon need to guide the first few who were ready to graduate to something other than talking to people for information.
The Brownstone Agency would become an army of bounty hunters, sweeping across Los Angeles until there was no one with a bounty left to arrest. Sure, they might not be able to handle killers like King Pyro or Red Eyes, but those kinds of threats were rare.
Maybe someday we’ll set up teams in different cities. San Francisco branch. San Diego branch. Even some poor suckers in Sacramento. Tokyo branch. Now that shit would be sweet.
He toyed with the thought as he drove to his place. The problem with most bounty hunters was that they were just in the game for the money. From what he’d read on the net there were other bounty-hunting firms, but none of any decent size—and none that had a man like James Brownstone at their head.
Reputation was a big thing, and James had earned his rep the hard way—through buckets of blood and piles of bullets.
Even if more people started firms to compete with the Brownstone Agency, the city would ultimately win. It’d mean fewer criminals poking their heads up.
Trey chuckled. He’d been a criminal not all that long ago, but he already was thinking of himself as the hand of the law and about how he could help run criminals off.
Not like this city wouldn’t be better off with fuckers like the Demon Generals gone. Too bad most of those bitches don’t have bounties.
He parked his truck at the curb. He needed to get a place with a nice driveway, or even a garage. He’d gone through the trouble to get a sweet-ass truck like his mentor, so he needed to treat it with as much love as James did his.
Trey had just stepped out of his truck when a pair of highlights shined around the corner. His hand slipped inside his jacket to his holster. While he didn’t know of any immediate threats to his life, he hadn’t forgotten how James’d had to beat down some Demon Generals who had rolled into the neighborhood to extract revenge on Trey. Just because he’d left the gang lifestyle didn’t mean he’d escaped his gang past.
Even though that shit had been about helping James and not the gang.
The source of the highlights slowed, and Trey dropped his hand when he recognized the other F-350 that drove around the neighborhood.
James pulled his truck to a stop and rolled down his window. “Hey, Trey.”
“Damn, big man,” Trey called. “You made me nervous, and I was this close to capping your ass. I’d never live that shit down. They’d run me not only out of the neighborhood but out of the state.”
“If you could take me out, half the city would build a statue to you to celebrate how badass you are.” James gave a light chuckle. “And it’d be pretty fucking embarrassing if I ended up surviving all the shit I have just to get killed by one of my employees by accident.”
“You’re telling me.” Trey whistled. “How about that Vegas shit? I don’t think either of us knew what we were getting into.”
James grunted. “I just wanted some barbeque. But it was a nice change of pace. I was hunting a guy instead of having a bunch of assholes hunting me. Didn’t have to worry about my truck or having to blow up any buildings. It was kinda like how things used to be…simple. Or simpler.” He shrugged.
Trey shrugged. “Pretty sure people get that you don’t fuck with James Brownstone and live by now.”
“You’d think, but a lot of people are dumbasses.” James looked thoughtful. “Everything go all right with your aunt?”
“Yeah. Nana was damned happy.” Trey smiled. “It feels good to have my auntie back, and not only that, I’m in a position to help her. If I was still gangbanging on the streets, I wouldn’t have been able to get her a job. I guess that’s paying it forward. You helped me, I helped her.”
“This time it’s family, next time you won’t know who it’s for. I’m doing the same thing when I think about it.”
“Paying it forward?”
James nodded. “Yeah. The priests helped me when I was an orphan. I could have ended up on the street, but because they gave a shit, I didn’t end up some messed-up high-level bounty wanted for murdering people.”
“That’s deep, James. I’m hoping we can do the same for the rest of the boys.”
“You worried?”
Trey shook his head. “Not really, but maybe there’s something we can do as a company to help with that. You know, build morale and shit. I’ve been reading a lot about it. Leadership, organization, management, and all that shit.”
James furrowed his brow. “Huh. Really? What’d you have in mind? I don’t do sports. People get hurt when I try.”
“I bet.” Trey snapped his fingers. “How about a barbeque team? You’ve done competitions, and you can lead us to victory. Builds teamwork and shit, but we can also start out winners. Everyone likes being a winner.”
James laughed, but stopped when Trey didn’t join him.
“You’re serious?” the older bounty hunter asked.
Trey snorted. “Damned right, I’m serious.”
“I don’t know…” James sighed. “I don’t have the books I used to.”
“Don’t give me no shit about how you lost your signed recipe books, man. Just get some new ones.” Trey pointed at James’ head. “And give me a fucking break. I know you don’t forget shit. How many times did you read those books? If you ever quit bounty hunting, you’d be the ultimate pitmaster. You’ve got a fucking encyclopedia of barbeque in that head. I say we do shit the world ain’t ever seen.” He slammed a fist into his palm. “And I mean shit that makes Nadina look like she’s from Wyoming.”
James rubbed the back of his neck
and gave Trey a wide grin. “Why the hell not?”
James frowned as he approached his house. The lights in his living room were on.
Someone’s really trying to piss me off.
He relaxed once the garage door opened to reveal a red Fiat Spider in the driveway.
“Guess that explains why my security system is off, but why didn’t she bother to tell me she was coming home?”
James pulled into his garage and killed the engine, then stepped inside the house and around the corner. A single sock lay on the ground.
“Come on, Shay, you don’t have to leave your socks all over.”
He leaned over to grab the sock. Another sock lay a few feet away. He grunted and walked over to pick it up. The trail continued toward his bedroom with pants, then a shirt, bra, and panties right in front of the bed.
Shay threw back the covers to reveal her naked body and winked. “I think I need me some Stone.”
James killed the lights and grinned. “Oh. In that case, I don’t give a shit about a few socks on the floor.”
The warmth of the sun’s rays tickled Shay’s face, and she awoke with a yawn. James remained asleep, snoring loudly on the opposite side of the bed. She reached over to her nightstand to check her phone. She’d sent Alison a text last night before going to sleep, but the girl, likely already asleep in Virginia, hadn’t returned it.
He’s ok. He had backup.
The girl’s response had come in an hour before Shay had awoken.
TY, Aunt Shay. Or should I say Mom? ;-)
Shay smirked. “That girl is too damned smart.”
She put the phone down and slid an arm across the chest of her sleeping man. “Next job is coming up soon. Better make sure I’m too sore to even want something by then.”
Shay grinned. It’d be a fun, if exhausting, few days.
FINIS
Dark Is Her Nature
Did you know that Alison has her own series? Book one in School of Necessary Magic is Dark is Her Nature, and is available exclusively at Amazon.
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Author Notes - Michael Anderle
June 21, 2018
Thank you for pulverizing the pages and making your way through the SIXTH Brownstone book, to read these Author Notes at the end.
When I wrote the book beats which would become When Angels Cry, the question I centered around was ‘what kind of asshole would kill parents, and then be happy that their children were upset?’
I didn’t want a person who was evil already. Rather, I wanted something to happen to the bad guy that changed him or her. I thought ‘what would those in society be doing with this new magic? Both light magic, and dark?’
In my imagination, EVERYONE from the lowest hood on the street with grandiose aspirations to corporations to the dark underbelly of society on up to governments would be playing around with something they shouldn’t.
Including the Mob.
In Vegas (where I perch from time to time), there is a history of the Mob. For the most part, you don’t hear about it anymore, since legitimate businesses (MGM, Caesars Entertainment, etc.) take all the press outside Vegas. I don’t read much about the dark underbelly of what Vegas is like right now. It doesn’t feel like a Mob town. But then, a mobster would probably have to roll up in their limousine as I’m walking down the street and point to themselves and say ‘Hey! I’m a mobster!’ to get me to notice.
The problem with that situation is, I would have a KAJILLION questions about what’s going on! I’m sure too many of those questions would get me singing with the fishes…Which might be a bit hard in a desert town.
But there is a reservoir close enough.
So no. If any mobsters are reading this right now, I really DON’T wish to talk with you, because my natural inquisitive self couldn’t keep his fucking mouth shut.
And we wouldn’t get any more Brownstone. Or Katie, or Bethany Anne… You get the picture.
As I’m typing this, I’m eating at the Pacifica Resort in Cabo San Lucas. THIS is the resort where I wrote Book 03 of The Kurtherian Gambit and coined the term (in my mind) 20 books to 50k. I’m trying to take a bit of a breather. A rest and a little relaxation.
As much as I can.
As we gear up for a monster rest of this year, and then a GODZILLA year in 2019, all of us need to sit back and take a few breaths from time to time. You, me, them… It doesn’t matter.
Just breathe and relax. Enjoy the moment to the best of our abilities, and consider the awesomeness we have as authors and readers. We are enjoying THIS moment in history, when we can publish a book on Friday morning in Naples Florida (or wherever the hell Zen Master Walking ™ is located) and you can be reading it in Germany, Canada, Japan, Australia, or even Las Vegas, Nevada just minutes (or sometimes a few hours) later.
We are all blessed by digital book distribution, and I’m so damned happy that you are enjoying it with me and the rest of us at LMBPN Publishing.
Thank you!
Ad Aeternitatem,
Michael Anderle
Other Revelation of Oriceran Universe Books
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Books by Michael Anderle
For a complete list of books by Michael Anderle, please visit
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