Brothers in Arms

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This book is for all the readers who send the emails and connect on social media. The ones past, present and future. The ones who stay in touch and make my day with their kind words and enthusiasm.

You know who you are…

The old man stared hard through the grimy window, liver spotted hands gripping the neck of the half-empty wine bottle with a shaky chokehold. His eyes were wide, the fingers of his left hand trailing slowly down the pane as if following a mysterious pattern.

Outside, demons stalked the night.

He knew these demons. He’d seen them before, many times. He was safe. They wouldn’t come for the likes of him. Like the hounds of hell, they rampaged through his unstable home, singling out fitter, younger specimens, always the sort who wouldn’t be missed and could be put to some future, diabolical use.

From his lofty and secluded vantage point, he watched, his fear and disgust jaded from untold years of existing on the streets. A tall demon, dagger in one hand, pistol in the other, strode carelessly among the fragile dwellings of the street people, smashing and crashing and hurling their precious belongings out of his path. His minions followed him with glee, cackling and capering, their tiny eyes alight with the reflected flame of the growing fire.

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