James M. Vargo Books

Just a snippet before I get into more important matters (but poor Andro): Afterward, they were promptly escorted outside where the party crowd wondered what had transpired. Sarah was happy to explain the situation with Rogan rolling his eyes when she said something a little too trite. Andro found an opportunity to duck aside, and with scroll tucked in his pocket made way for the road. He was prepared to head home when he was called from behind. “Andro, are you leaving so soon?” Randa’s question stopped him in his tracks. She was alone. “Umm, well, I don’t like keeping such a valued letter outside to get ale spilled on it,” he replied, unsure how to respond. “But you usually say goodbye.” “Sorry Randa, I seldom feel myself these days. I must have forgotten.” She got no closer, but at least her eyes shone slight compassion. “You keep to yourself more and more. Now with Rogan and Sarah’s engagement, well…” “What?” “You seem lonely.” Andro blushed at being expose...

Funny when the story hits a rut, and I let it go to continue forward. But I hate leaving things be. This time I just assumed that part of the story had little meat to gnaw on and let it go to traverse elsewhere. But then inspiration comes along. Inspiration isn't always a happy thought, an ethereal dream, or divine instruction. This time it comes straight out of the dregs of life. I can't always plan on these things, so sometimes the negative is inspiration enough to guide one through the muck and mire of a story. If I feel unbidden -- how does my character feel? Then why do I write such a thing as a fantasy series? It's enough to convince someone to read a stand-alone, but a series? My epiphany  -- I do it for the characters. Sounds strange, but I have given life to a group of folk I care about, and I don't want to abandon them now. Their story should be told. Andro Rhine has to mature through pain as well as life's joys. Time for the youngin' to grow. ...

40k words, still no title, damn I'm slow.  

Andro Rhine waited upon the docks that lined Logan’s lakefront. A cold autumn breeze picked up across the waters and blew in his face – his look was miserable. His father stepped out from a nearby goods store, but never looked up from the token he held in his hand. “Son, see here,” said Audin in an odd manner. “I’ve never beheld the likes of one of these.” “What is it?” “A Mervonel coin. Imagine that – all the way from Acrindian.” Andro glanced it over in his father’s waiting hand. Upon one side was a sea serpent in an ever-consuming circle; and upon the opposite side, a profile of a shorthaired man. At the bottom was scribed the words – Emp. Ràcnar . “Whose face is that? We have no emperor in Turra Arrither. Who would carry a coin like this to Logan?” he asked. “Gandol is a mixing place now – all kinds of folk coming in, especially with Fort Gregory underway.” Andro glowered all the more. “Don’t remind me. And now to make things worse – here comes the m...

Grey Lane Here's an update I began to doubt -- Book four, Outcast Alliance series is 100 pages and growing. Actually, I cheated, since this one already has the glossary attached, but 100 is 100.  Now for a name. I have to admit, by chapter six I should have a book title -- even a little something to hold me over until the right one comes along.  But nope. No title. So far I've bounced around between two different scenarios and sets of familiar characters.  Now which storyline comes out on top?  We shall see.  I'll figure it out soon enough -- just another moment of inspiration like the ones that have taken me this far.  And as for a snippet?  Too revealing at this point. (more disappointment) So go on with your lives -- one day book four will arrive  with a blare of trumpets (and a proper title) and your anticipation will be well rewarded.  I'm going to bed...

Southern post of Riccdare    Strange it seems that when I am writing a scene and a picture -- an actual photograph, this time -- displaying the same setting I'm thinking about appears.  There's even a dusting of snow, like I imagined.  Does this take away from the fantasy element in my mind?  Not in my eyes -- I believe the closer to real life, the better fantasy. Kinda like feeling the earth in your hands. Probably why I prefer this genre' to Sci-fi -- more to relate to. Time for a snippet of Book four (still untitled): Armond stood his ground – his look was grim – but outward appearances concealed strange pride. Few save lords and those honored laid foot upon the hallowed heights of the mountain, and if it weren’t for a nudge from Brenn at his side, he would have resembled the stoic peak itself. “What is it, shrimp? Can’t you see the wagon approaches?” Armond asked in a whisper. “I am cold,” muttered Brenn, a gale blowing hair i...

Just a little something from Book Three of the Outcast Alliance series. And yes, I am working on the so far untitled Book Four. "Then a strange emotion overcame Armond. He felt the blood of something near – something spiteful – and it drew closer. He sensed the demon somewhere in the outer darkness; perhaps they all did. Despite the sweat of his brow, his skin froze with cold. His knuckles turned white, tensing as he pressed the crossbow against his belly. He felt this anger before – in the chambers of Lichencombe. Then came a sound against the secret door. Armond decidedly stood his ground. Only paces away, he waited for what he did not know. The sound of nails upon the framework turned into a groan from the strain against the stonework of the hidden entrance. “Perhaps they wasted too much time blessing Lord-Set’s sword,” he muttered, “could use some extra spell-binding here…” Armond’s words were cut short, as what came as a knock turned into a blast....