**EXCERPT TWO FROM WINTERS DEMON BY Eric Asher** ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Dad’s eyes flashed wide and he took a hesitant step away from Mike. The demon sighed and held out the cannon-sized gun in his arms. “I suppose I deserved that,” he said with a small smile. “Take the gun, Dimitry,” Zola said. “He’s a friend.” “Do not touch the fairies with this,” Mike said. Dad’s about six feet tall, five inches shorter than me. When Mike placed the gun in his hands, it looked like it was going to pull him over. The stock was open. Where you expected wood it was a hollow and rounded triangle. A few inches up the stock, the trigger rested in a spacious guard with the hammer above. The barrel shot out from there, octagonal at first, but it broke into a cylinder in another six inches or so. The gun almost looked like a musket, but the entire weapon, even the ramrod, devoured light like cast iron, until the runes on the side began to glow. I recognized some. The sharp angles of Kaun looked like a mathematical less-than symbol, and Uruz bore a shape much like a sharp-angled lowercase n, runes of strength and fire. “What is this thing?” Dad said, admiration obvious in his voice. “The barrel has to be two feet long. An elephant gun?” “No, it’s twenty-one inches,” Mike said. “It’s based on a whaling gun. The runes are a little something extra. They’ll only activate in the hands of a mortal man.” “Truly?” Zola asked. Mike nodded. “Brilliant,” she said as she leaned in a little. “Can a mage even fire it?” “No, and neither can a necromancer, so don’t try it. These wards at the end,” he said as he pointed to a circular ring of squiggles, “will paralyze any magic user that pulls the trigger.” “What kind of rounds does it fire?” Dad asked. “These.” Mike reached behind him and unhooked a large leather pouch. He pulled out what looked like a small rocket. “It’s called a bomb lance. Load it into the front end of the gun and ram it down.” With one bomb lance still in-hand, Mike held out the leather satchel. Dad reached for the pouch and grunted as he slung it over his shoulder. The weight was obvious. Mike held out the last lance and kept his grip as Dad started to pull it away. “Don’t point these at anything near anything or anyone you don’t want dead.” He let the lance slide out of his hand as Dad nodded.... ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Purchase Link: Winters Demon (Book 3): amazon/Winters-Demon-Vesik-Book-3-ebook/dp/B00KZXH456/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1403988671&sr=8-1&keywords=Winter%27s+Demon
Posted on: Sun, 29 Jun 2014 00:38:07 +0000
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