The voice of this book was perfect, the humor. I mean, you’re an astronaut falling into some space hole (see cover). Pretty bad. If there’s a dragon on the other side? Shitty bad, pardon my french. And the first line of the synopsis is pure greatness.
The book is Bad Luck Charlie (The Dragon Mage, #1) by Scott Baron will be out tomorrow in the Adult, Fantasy, Science Fiction genre.
Charlie Gault had all the luck. Unfortunately, it wasn’t the good kind. It was looking like Lady Luck had quite a grudge against him. In fact, at this point merely crashing the multi-billion-dollar ship he had helped design would have felt like winning the lottery compared to his current dilemma. If only he were so lucky.
Things had started off all right––that is, until a freak wormhole unexpectedly swallowed his ship, leaving him stranded on an unknown planet far, far from home. With the crew’s lives at stake, Charlie had no choice but to stop his whining, put on his big boy pants, and step up to save them all, and much to his surprise, it actually looked like he might succeed. Of course, that was when things really went sideways in ways that made merely crashing on an uncharted planet seem like a walk in the park.
Suddenly faced with alien space pirates, talking dragons, and something that seemed very much like magic, Charlie found himself adrift, feeling like a space age Robinson Crusoe––only his man Friday was a blue-skinned alien, and this wasn’t just a desert island. It was a whole new galaxy.
Knives, swords, and clubs lined the tables set up along the high stone walls of the arena. The building had a heaviness to it. A weight of centuries of use, years steeped in magic and power, and not all of it good. Charlie felt a little light headed just being near it, yet Captain Tür was dragging him even closer.
“Enchanted sword, sir?” a vendor called out as they passed.
“Enchanted, you say? What is it capable of, then?” Tür inquired.
“Oh, it is a powerful weapon, brave sir. Guaranteed to cut the hand of all enemies who try to wield it.
Tür picked up the blade and swung it a few times, testing the weight. “A decent weapon, but the enchantment is but a middling one that would wear off after its first use,” he said, showing the konus bracelet glowing around his wrist.
He slid the lightly-glowing blade from the sheath on his hip. “This, I can assure you, is not underpowered. You would be wise to keep that in mind when next you attempt to sell knock-off enchanted weapons.”
“So sorry, sir. So sorry,” the man groveled.
Captain Tür paid him no further heed and walked away.
“There are actual enchanted weapons here?” Charlie found himself asking, his curiosity outweighing his discomfort and anger for a moment.
“Not true powered weapons, but temporary enchantment that will do the trick in a bind. With a strong enough casting, you can achieve something close enough to the real thing for those less knowledgeable.”
With all he had seen, call it what you will, a special form of tech, or magic, or something in between, it was finally clear that there was a power at work in this most unusual galaxy that was unlike anything Charlie had ever even hypothesized to exist.
They rounded the structure, heading toward a large tent just ahead. A small gate, just big enough for a man to pass through was carved into the stone, heavy metal bars, dark with age and something he didn’t want to even try to identify blocked all from entry.
Or exit, he realized.
Captain Tür unexpectedly allowed him to pause a moment, amused as his slave peered through the bars into the vast holding area within.
“What the actual fuck?” Charlie couldn’t believe what he saw. His shock was broken when the bellowing shriek of one of the massive beasts within pierced the air.
“Ah, the cries of the Zomoki. They are haunting, are they not?” Captain Tür said, watching his terrified slave with great amusement.
“Those are Zomoki?”
“Yes. Though I thought Gramfir had a larger collection on hand.”
A plume of smoke wafted out the opening as one of the beasts spewed a stream of hot flame and stamped its feet.
“Zomoki are fucking dragons?” Charlie blurted, stumbling back in shock.
“I’ve never heard of a ‘dragon’ before, but that’s what I get for this mediocre translation spell, I suppose. Now come along. You don’t want to be late meeting your new master.”
Charlie felt the collar tug and quickly moved his feet to keep up, all the while his mind racing from what he’d seen. Dragons. And not little piddling lizard pretenders. These were Grade-A, big-as-a-house, fire-breathing dragons.
A native Californian, Scott Baron was born in Hollywood, which he claims may be the reason for his off-kilter sense of humor. Before taking up residence in Venice Beach, he spent a few years studying abroad before settling into the film and television industry, where he has worked off and on for some time. Scott not only writes, but is also involved in indie film and theater both in the U.S. and abroad.
Author links: https://scottbaron.blog/
GIVEAWAYBlitz-wide giveaway (INTL)
- A signed copy of Bad Luck Charlie + a meditating spaceman pendant