I'd like to be the sort of man
the flag could boast about;
I'd like to be the sort of man
it cannot live without;
I'd like to be the type of man
That really is American:
The head-erect and shoulders-square,
Clean-minded fellow, just and fair,
That all men picture when they see
The glorious banner of the free.

--From "A Patriotic Wish" by Edgar Albert Guest

The short story has reached the raging conclusion - well, not quite, but we're on the verge with only about 600 words left to complete the explosive ending.

Nearly all my books are available on kindle direct. Book 5 of the Tomahawks and Dragon Fire Series should be of particular interest now as it deals with the adoption of the Declaration of Independence. It's a fabulous story: Truth in Flames.

Let me warn you and apologize that I'm going to share some excepts from Truth in Flames. As you can tell from the dedication, the creation and adoption of the Declaration of Independence is something near and dear to me. I spent many hours researching and studying the history and the speeches. It was a delight to blend the sacred history with the fantasy of the adventure. Most of the excerpts aren't too long. I've taken them at random as I scrolled through the book. I haven't grabbed the exciting action, of which there is a heaping helping, but I have picked some bits that provide a taste of the whole series:

This is from the dedication:

To Life, Liberty, and the Pursuit of Happiness,

In gratitude to all those who helped bring forth the

Declaration of Independence,

And with respect and honor to those who offered, and yet

offer, the last full measure of Devotion to preserve the

ideals proclaimed in the document.

But it's not all patriotic soldiering and fighting. There's romance--Antonio Style. This is from chapter 6 when Antonio, Captain Rip's First Mate is confronted by his former lover, Catalina:

"Don’t waste your sweet-talk on me, you…you pirate.

I’ve come for my pearls or for your life.” She

revealed the pistol which she had held behind her

skirt, bringing it to bear on Antonio.

“Oh, my sweet Catalina. You haven’t changed at all. You’re

even more beautiful when you’re angry. I had forgotten how

your eyes throw lightning, and the flush upon those alabaster

cheeks reminds me of sunset on white beach sands. You are a

storm over the twilight sea.”

She cut him off. “Where are my pearls?” She drew back the

doghead on the pistol.

“They are safe, my pretty sunset storm. Come, let me bask

in the pink rays of your wrath. Kiss my lips with the fury of the

red sun and scorch my soul with the hot wind of your spirit.”

“Show me the pearls.”

Danger and death pursue all the characters. When Hugh, a former criminal from the streets of London on his way to becoming a frontiersman, nearly recovers a dragon stone, he has a conversation with Lee, a real frontiersman with wisdom and experience, given to quoting the Bible and Pope's Iliad. They've been in a terrible battle with stone cats, vicious and formidable creatures, and have been badly wounded:

“Charmed as one of the apostles,” Hugh said. “If we’re any

luckier, we’ll all get crucified upside down.” Hugh pounded the

side of his fist against a log. “I was that close. That close to

getting a stone. I could’ve had the power Alex and the

commander have. I could’ve healed you both. It practically fell

into my lap, and I missed it.”

“You see what be happening to Akram. That power be

consuming him. You be wanting that? I wouldn’t be wanting

that. I wouldn’t be wishing that on you nor no one else—not

even my enemy.”

“Because your enemy could kill you with it,” Hugh said.

“Because it be a canker on the soul. I reckon not many

punishments be worse than such power at one’s call.”

“Alex has done well with it.”

“That could be right. Alex be young and good of heart.

Both of those be in his favor. He believes in doing what be

right. Maybe he can. Too often, power be a cloud over the eyes

of righteousness and a shadow across the mind against truth.

Does a thing become right because no one else has the power

to stop it? A man with power be thinking he has earned things

no man rightly deserves. He don’t be only coveting—he be

taking.”

“That power would be worth having to heal the two of you

now.”

“I will say of the Lord, He is my refuge and my fortress: my

God; in him will I trust. Surely he shall deliver thee from the

snare of the fowler, and from the noisome pestilence.”

When Lee took a breath, Shannon continued for him, “He

shall cover thee with his feathers, and under his wings shalt

thou trust: His truth shall be thy shield and buckler.”

“Shannon knows her Psalms,” Lee said with a smile.

“And yet, you’re both wounded. I don’t think reciting bible

verses will heal you.”

“It makes the pain easier to bear,” Shannon said. She had

tears in her eyes. She kept her gaze averted from her own

wound, looking instead at the slashes in Lee’s leg.

In a later chapter, Mirimoni, native maiden and former priestess to the dragon Karakanda, has become separated from Alex, and faces serious trouble:

A shadow passed over Mirimoni. She looked up, and her

knees buckled. Roberts’ green dragon soared overhead.

The air passing about the feathered wings made a

cry—a soft whistle—that reminded her of Karakanda gliding

down to Black Moon. She used the staff to regain her feet. The

sound of her own pounding heart filled her ears. Her legs

ached for an instant until her muscles put the rushing

adrenaline to good use. As the dragon banked wide, she ran

for the trees.

But wait! There's more. Like the Continental Congress dealing with the disheartening news of repeated defeats while freedom's advocates press for the creation and adoption of the Declaration of Independence:

The doors below opened. Washington and a young

lieutenant, small and slight of frame, entered the hall. The way

parted before Washington and his aide.

“They have received news,” Washington whispered to

Lucette. “Despair drips from them like blood from an open

wound. They have become bleating sheep. I will gather them.

You must make them men again.”

Washington strode into the chamber. The delegates in the

hall followed like many small boats pulled in the wake of a

mighty ship.

John Hancock returned to his position at the head of the

body. “The chair recognizes General Washington. I give him

the floor.”

Washington took his position at the head of the chamber as

the delegates returned to their green-clothed tables. He pressed

his fingers together and took a deep breath before putting one

arm at his side while holding the other bent before him. His

eyes moved from delegate to delegate, meeting each set of eyes

in turn for a half second. Lucette stood a pace behind

Washington.

He broke the silence which had settled over the delegates

like a blanket of snow. “Be not dismayed. You have assuredly

heard the disheartening news from the north. Although it is

worse than we had conceived, our expectations lacked

grandeur in that theater of operations for the present. Don’t

lose hope. I have just spoken with Colonel Benedict Arnold.

We have an army. We have defenses. Should they be defeated,

the war is not lost. They are but the arms of our endeavors. It

is this body and the people you represent that are the heart of

our cause. That heart must never stop beating. It must never

despair. Only if you few succumb to fear and despair is the

cause lost..."

...

Lucette continued sending the essence. She felt the

returning substance. She sensed changes in many of their

hearts, but not all were convinced.

“As you are the heart of this cause, what you do here will

forge a new heart for all the world in time to come. Your

words will resonate in hearts around the world. Let your hopes

and your courage be your guide. Let your bravery and

dedication to the task of liberty and independence stand as a

banner to the world. As your soldiers have stood against

bayonets and cannon, you can stand against hate and deceit. It

will not be easy, but you alone can accomplish the task. The

spirit of independence must not be swallowed by your fear.

“Gentlemen, have you not received the spirit of liberty in

your breast? Have you not felt the fire of freedom burn within

your heart? If you have felt these things, can you deny them

now?” She let the questions linger unanswered for several

seconds. “I know that you cannot. Call upon your courage and

marry it to your hope for freedom. Defy the dragon and

tyranny. Write your names among the heroes of history. The

day is yours. No devils or demons can stop you. The light is

within you. Let it shine for all the world to see. Gentlemen,

liberty and independence are yours if you will but persist. A

new nation and generations born in freedom will remember

what you do here.”

All right. I'll stop grabbing excerpts.

On the music front, I rediscovered Tchaikovsky's 1812 Overture. It has long been a favorite, but I haven't listened to it in a while.

I watched the movie Xanadu with Olivia Newton John - it's entirely forgettable, but most of the music is good. I posted a little about it on the most recent blog. I may write more, or not.

Among the books I'm currently reading are: Smoke (one of my own that I like to revisit), and The Revolt of Angels by Anatole France.

Let me present you with a plethora of books you might like:

Check out these free fast-paced fantasy and sci-fi selections.

Yet more free sci-fi and fantasy to tempt you.

If dystopian adventure is more your style set your sites on these winners.

Have a save and happy Independence Day!