A Terror Dictator’s Guide to Mindfulness

I’m experimenting with doing something new. I’ve always wanted to write a comedy self-help book. Here’s is the introduction and the first chapter. If you want to see this project happen, consider supporting me on patreon.

Introduction

As totalitarianism and authoritarian leadership have become increasingly mainstream, more and more people are actively seeking resources for total domination of segments of the population under their thumb. Managers, CEOs, and even Presidents can use these practices to terrorize their subjects into compliance. Whether you are seeking to put your kid brother in his rightful place or require swaths of people to quake at your very presence, this guide is intended for anyone who needs a little more terror in their life.

There are a lot of books out there that claim to have all the answers for all the up incoming terror dictators of the world, but they lack depth and the experience of a ruler of his own regime. I’m Kim Jong-Hannity, (no relation to the dictator or American TV personality), and I’ve been lord of my own country for eight years. Back in 2012, I played one of my compatriots, Kim Jong-un, in a game of high stakes poker. I won complete control over one of the provinces of North Korea. It’s been my own country ever since.

When I took control of the province and renamed it Hannityville, it was in poor shape. People were whispering rebellious thoughts, black markets extoling capitalist pigdog virtues were everywhere, and worst of all, they were watching South Korean media. I couldn’t walk anywhere without hearing Gangnam Style, so I had anyone caught watching the video dragged out to the street and shot, along with people listening to Friday, the Hampster Dance, Yatta, What Does the Fox Say, and other viral sensations.

Needless to say, citizens got in line pretty quickly, and now I want to share all my secrets to a successful totalitarian dictatorship that you can incorporate into your lives. I was recently giving a FRED talk (Firearms, Radical Extermination, Design) about the power of positive thinking while torturing political prisoners, and a big American CEO came up to me and said. “That’s a great speech Kim, but we can no longer water board in the US anymore.”

And I said, “Who has to know about it?”

He then responded about his board of directors, to which I chided him for not firebombing at least one board of director’s house per year, so they know who is really in charge. Americans have gotten really weak. Stupid American President sits down at this desk all day tweeting threatening messages. Whereas, I don’t make threats. I take swift, decisive action and teach my citizens the value of strong rule. He talks a big game, but they still listen to Baby Shark in America.

The idea for this book started years ago when I went to Osama bin Laden Summer Camp as a teenager. My mom was one of the few Asian Islamic extremists, and my dad was the only surviving member of the Jim Jones cult (he bought a Hawaiian Punch in town and didn’t realize it was a suicide party until too late). I grew up in Equatorial Guinea where I learned a hard day’s work and human rights abuses was all you needed to keep the population in control. Because of my diverse background studying totalitarianism with dictators throughout the world, I realize that crushing your enemies and drinking their blood isn’t just for Vikings, it’s for everyone.

Now for the first time, I’ve collected different terror dictator tactics in one handy to use guidebook that anyone can understand. It helps if you have tanks, missiles, biological and nuclear weaponry, and a playlist of earworms. Trust me when I said that I am the only one in Hannityville who can play Baby Shark, usually through a loudspeaker, during a siege of political dissidents.

Even if you don’t have your own secret police, you can get something out of this book. My deepest intention is to make these practices accessible to anyone even people in a wheelchair. They can run over someone’s foot, and do it again until they shape behavior of the person into who they want them to be. People are too busy finding themselves, when you can make them who you want them to be.

All the terror dictators, fascist leaders, cult head priests, presidents for life, terrorists organizations, and even boy band managers have given me their secrets to success over the years. After that ill-fated poker day, North Korea’s loss became my gain, and I got to put all those practices into use. My hope is you can use this book as your own blueprint, and you can take total-control over your life, as well as all the people around you.

With a little direction, we all have the potential to become a totalitarian dictator. Even if you never get to play Kim Jong-un for a chance at another one of his provinces, I hope you can incorporate this into your daily practices to live a richer, fuller life. Though if you do get a chance to play Kim Jong-un at poker, he is not as good at bluffing as you think he’d be.

Totalitarianism 101

When I was fourteen years-old, my father gave me a used playboy with the pages stuck together. He told me that it should occupy me until I could go to college because there wasn’t much dating opportunity in Equatorial Guinea. At the time I was struggling with depression and realized that I felt better when I pulled the wings off of flies or swung rodents around in sacks. I even used the rolled up magazine on the family dog.

I had realized that words were powerful but didn’t really understand the full power of them until I had witness my first North Korean march. My parents were globe trotters when I was young. We went to Iran, North Korea, Columbia, Libya and all sorts of wonderful places with great food. All of them had one thing in common, their propaganda machines were in full production.

It was evident in that trip to North Korea. All the marching armies, gigantic missiles, and color coordinated dancers were all praising their great leader. The movies in theaters and even songs they sang to their children were in service of the great regime. There were even Kim Jong-il approved ice cream flavors.

I took it one step further. All Happy Meals served in Hannityville have action figures in likeness of me. I star in every film. You guessed it, I even sing in my own rock-country band that appeals to the working class man and still regales me as the supreme leader. I didn’t just approve the ice creams. I am the ice cream flavors. My favorite is triple-choco-Hannity explosion, but don’t worry other flavors still exist too, you must give the people some sense of choice in life even if it is a sham.

Here are the Nine Aspects of Successful Terror Dictators you can start using now if an employee has the audacity to ask you for a raise. Remember party loyalty is the reward in itself. They should be happy you don’t handcuff them to a pipe in the company basement for the weekend because of the insubordination.

  1. BE FULLY PRESENT. This takes a lifetime to master, but you can take control and be mindful of your surroundings in small subtle ways. For example, if you are about to eat a Snickers bar, make your top general take a bite instead because someone could be trying to poison you. You will fall right into the trap if you willy-nilly stuff chocolate into your gullet. You are smarter that your would-be usurper. If the general says that he is allergic to peanuts, you force the candy bar into his mouth with a gun to his head. While he tearfully begs for mercy for his family, you remind him that there are camps for people like that. You watch the life drain from his eyes only confirming your suspicion about the chocolate bar. Only later you realize that it may have just been anaphylactic shock because of the time the general got sick from a Reese’s and ask Alexa to put more Snickers bars on your shopping list.
  • RECOGNIZE YOUR EMOTIONS. Stupid American President doesn’t understand this one and gets butt sore every time someone calls him a bad name. One day my hairdresser was making fun of me, and I put her head on a pike in front of the capitol building (I learned that from boy genius Joffrey). She had the audacity to say that pompadours weren’t very dignified haircuts. I said, “Are you kidding me! Elvis had all these screaming girls under his sway.” Then I had my new general do her in. Get it? I spun on words. Do her in. Like hairdo.
  • Don’t Be Judgmental. This one is pretty hard to learn. I am part of #BACHELORNATION (remember rule #3 and my bioweapons research program). Sometimes I would see the Bachelorette falling for the wrong guy, and I would scream at the TV, “No, he is only there for his music career! You should cut a finger off for each time he lied to you!” But, then they see through the lies and turn out to be a strong women worthy of a terror dictator partner in life. I have not heard back about the assassins I have sent after Clare Crawley’s suitors.

.  

  • CHANGE IT UP. This one is hard, especially for a good friend of mine cartel hitman Juan Pablo “Dedos” Fring. Dedos got his name because he would take a finger as a trophy from all of his victims, but that’s boring to do the same thing every day. You think American CIA would have more tricks than waterboarding. Come on guys, you are the most powerful country in the world. I am proud to say that Hannityville’s gulag, not only has the classics like sleep deprivation, waterboarding, and music torture, but I also get all my generals together for these idea sessions where we have had several novel breakthroughs. We put into action all sorts of exciting new ideas including electric eels, psychotic clowns, reenactments of every single way a Game of Thrones character has died, several bond villain contraptions that the stupid British MI6 agent escapes every time, and a kitten room (mostly for members of the minority party allergic to cats).
  • Make Sure You Have You Time. Godlike leaders of the world don’t carve out enough time for themselves. Whether you are punishing people for their thought crimes or singing with the adoring public who are sentenced with death if they don’t sing the bah, bah, bah part of Sweet Caroline with you at the ball game, being an important figure takes a lot out of you and that doesn’t even include the time we found real unicorn bones, unlike ahem, North Korea, who made it all up. I had to spend all day at a press conference. Sometimes, I have to tell myself. It’s okay to have a glass of wine and watch the Great British Baking show on Netflix.
  • View the World Through the Eyes of a Child. Children view the world like everything is new. They haven’t had the great disappointments in life like finding out Hannibal Lecter isn’t real or that Noriega was setup by the CIA. Or even when their father leaves them to join that stupid Heaven’s Gate cult. He also survived that one too because he bought a pudding cup at the gas station before they committed mass suicide to ascend to the UFO spaceship overhead. He didn’t even return my calls after that. On second thought, don’t see the world through the eyes of a child. Being a child sucks.
  • Propaganda, Propaganda, Propaganda. Every supreme leader for life needs a robust media engine. I personally use TikTok, but I know stupid American President uses Twitter. That’s a big mistake, who even had time to read anymore (except my book because you’ll make yourself better)? Make sure you choose a good theme song for your event. I personally use Bon Jovi’s Living on Prayer for state functions. Unless it’s a Death to AmericaTM event then I used The Final Countdown by Europe. Most of my TikTok videos are Shakira.
  • Find beauty in simplicity. Sometimes after burning a small village to the ground, you go through a crisis of faith. You wonder, am I really a supreme being on Earth meant to lead a glorious empire? What if there are no more small farming communities that are obviously plotting rebellion? This can’t be all there is to life. But then you find the sweet round faces of the village children staring up at you from under the floor boards of the elder’s house, and you realize that their delicate little fingers can polish the inside of ammo casings in your munitions factory. Life is beautiful. You just have to look in the places you’d least expect. Like the floor boards.
  • Your Mind is Your Friend. You ever hear the phrase, “you’re your own worst enemy.” That’s completely flat out wrong, let me assure you. Your worst enemy is the crooked media outlets that depict Hannityville as anything but the paradise on Earth that it is. I even invited stupid New York Times reporter to my country, and she didn’t want to go on the official tour. I had paid good money to hire the country’s most talented actors to pretend like they are mothers out with their babies and a group of teenagers playing football (the one you play with your foot stupid American). But no, she wanted to see the internment camps. I was like, “Dude, you are totally going to miss this part coming up where a bus full of nuns crashes, teetering on the edge of a cliff, and I save them.”

Now that we’ve laid the ground work for a successful dictatorship. Further chapters will explain secrets that will change your life. Mine is certainly better now that I’ve incorporated the practices in this book. A lot of my fellow despots have trouble sleeping at night because they are afraid of assassins, the CIA overthrowing their government, and even people talking bad about them on Twitter. I sleep soundly, especially after I started taking these chewy melatonin from Costco. They put me out.

The point is that my country is running smoothly, and I don’t even have to complain about the liberal media because I control all the media in my country. Stupid American media is a different story. I hate those guys. The point is that it doesn’t keep me up at night because I practice the steps in this book.

The keyword there is practice. Populations aren’t going to terrorize themselves. You only get the rewards if you put in the effort, and perhaps take them from people with less power than you. Keep in mind that it’s a work in progress. I am still learning, even today. I was going to execute this man because he spilled mustard on his shirt that has a likeness of me on it (I’m silhouetted like Che Guevara. It’s very cool). But then I realized, he was wearing a t-shirt with my face on it. He was honoring me, so I told him to take it off before I shot him.

If you want to be like me, and have total control over your life (and all the people around you), then you’re going to need to really practice all the lessons in the book. Maybe consider setting up a studio where you can buckle down and really dive into it. Or better yet, maybe seize a yoga studio. Be careful that they don’t have swords rolled up in those mats. I heard that yogi masters are pretty much like Warrior Nun on Netflix. That’s such an amazing series. I’m going to have to start my own religion, so I can have my own warrior nuns.

Time Burrito 2: The Bison Agenda

While Time Burrito 2 is far from complete, I couldn’t wait to share the cover art with you. It is just as ridiculous as the first book. Take a look:

Aaron_Frale_ebook

One word: Amazing.

Get an exclusive Patreon only edition by pledging now. Don’t wait for the book to come out, by then it will be too late!

BTW, the Tuners Trilogy is only $2 for a limited time only. The first book is free!

Also, grab Othello and Zombies for free while you can!

With Great Burrito Comes Great Responsibility… Again.

I’ve been putting off writing a Time Burrito sequel for years now. Clara and Misako burst into Pete’s life in the final chapter to herd him away into another nutty time travel adventure. I ended the first one that way because I didn’t want the story to end, but needed something. So I did what musicians are famous for doing when they don’t want the song to end. They fade out the music.

My wife and I saw a rock concert in someone’s living room once. It was somebody famous, but not so famous that the guy wouldn’t happen to play in somebody’s living room. I mean we saw the same guy (Chris Trapper, if you’re curious) in a cafe with maybe about fifty people munching away on food while he put on the show.

Admittedly, Chris Trapper wasn’t someone I heard of before I met my wife. I was into heavy metal, classic rock, and generally what you’d expect from the dorky white kid with an afro and a Slayer tee-shirt in his high school year book. But suffice to say, I’ve become a Chris Trapper fan, not just because he wrote the song that we danced to at our wedding (coincidentally, he played it at that living room concert, a surreal experience). I became a fan because of his story telling and comedy while on stage. A concert by him feels like you are at a friend’s house hearing a little jokes, some stories, and music.

Back to the living room concert. While he played one of the songs, he told us that he was going to fade the music. He did it by strumming his acoustic guitar lighter and lighter until the melody drifted away. While he did it, he told us that he likes to think that the song is still out there, playing somewhere.

The idea of the music still going on, but we just happen to move away from it has stuck with me so much that when I enjoy writing a story, such as I did with Time Burrito, I don’t want it to end, but would like to think that Pete, Clara, Misako, Unk, and Lion are still out there, going on adventures.

Clearly, other people did too. This has been my most requested sequel. Even more than Atmospheric Pressure 3, which I’ll get too! Promise! So, I’d like to say, I am breaking ground on it. The process of writing has begun. You will get Time Burrito 2. In the meantime, if you haven’t read Time Burrito. Now’s your chance, it’s free.

If financial support is in the cards for you, consider a patreon donation for early access, or just go purchase Atmospheric Pressure 2 while it’s 99 cents for a limited time.

Last but not very least, a lot of what I do is supported by fellow authors, and I want to take some time to highlight one of them. If you can, please support her too. Folks without the backing of a major publisher only exist because of you. Catherine Greenall is a fellow Sci Fi author and is reducing the price of one of her books for a short period of time. Here is the information:

qdAs the world battles a powerful disease, one scientist must fight grotesque creatures to find the truth. If he fails, he’ll doom humanity itself. If you like zombie apocalypse, global conspiracy and intelligently written fiction then you’ll love Catherine Greenall’s shocking book.

On sale here for a limited time!

The Robin Hood of Couches Cover Reveal

The Robin Hood of couches is coming out soon! Check out the cover art below. Remember, if you want to get the special Patreon members only version of this book with bonus content place a $5 or above donation before 7/25/19 ($2 donations will get the regular eBook edition in advance of everyone else). If you want to skip all this Patreon stuff you can preorder on Amazon here.

coveredited

Thank you to everyone whose supported me already. Here is a sneak peak at the first chapter:

Tyrell’s life was officially over. He elected to spend his last precious moments fiddling with the controls of his couch. When he had first learned of the impending disaster, he decided on Fluffy Cloud, which made it feel like he was drifting through the air when he sat on the billowing white cushions. Now, after a few swipes and taps on the display hovering in front of him, he selected College Futon. The molecules in the couch rearranged themselves to a hard, uncomfortable mattress on top of a black metal frame.

College Futon
felt right. Let them take a sad futon when they took everything he owned. He went for the TV next. He closed the couch app on the screen hovering in front of him and opened the TV one. He always liked 360 Display with HoloSport Playback. He could see the football fly from the rear wall of his apartment to the front as if it were in the room. He turned off 360 and pulled up 1970’s Vintage Wood Panel Tube. The TV screen that enveloped his living room faded away, and an old tube TV with wood paneling appeared on the other side of the room from his futon.

Tyrell got up and clicked the big thick knob of the set. The screen changed from an I Love Lucy rerun to the technicolor world of Green Acres. He laughed as he flipped the channels with an actual dial. “Don’t touch that dial,” he said and cackled.
The replica was so authentic. He even had to bang the side of the TV when the picture went out. He could have saved so much money per month if he had done this earlier and stripped the furniture in his apartment to the basic models and lowered his service plans. But now it was too late; his bank account was not only negative, but it was so negative that his next paycheck wouldn’t even make it positive again.

He would have been fine if his son’s school waited till withdraw the tuition Wednesday like they said they would. Instead, every little five-dollar transaction got hit with an overdraft fee. Tyrell was addicted to chipping in five bucks to any Kickstarter campaign that seemed halfway exciting or had a heartwarming story behind it. The little charges created a giant negative cash flow when the overdraft fees got involved.

Tyrell had yelled at the customer service representative of the bank. He had called the fees a tax a on poor people and would rant to anyone who would listen about how banks could charge as many fees as they wanted, but the only people it would end up hurting were the people without money. He had screamed and yelled, but in the end, could do nothing to prevent the loss of everything he owned.

He plopped back down on the futon and enjoyed the last few moments on a hard, uncomfortable surface. The screen hovering in the air popped up with a message and a countdown timer marking the final minutes he’d own a couch:
Couch+: FINAL NOTICE: Your payment was unable to process. Enter alternate payment method now?

When Tyrell failed to enter an alternate payment method, the couch dissolved when the timer reached zero. With no molecules strung together under his rump to form a College Futon, he hit the floor with a thump.

The TV went next:

TV HERO: Payment failed: 3rd NOTICE. Please enter a new payment method now to avoid disruption of your service.
In the course of the next few days, every object he owned disappeared until he was left with an empty apartment. He thanked his lucky stars that his bathroom was tied to the rent and wasn’t on a subscription service. He still had another couple of weeks to figure out that impending disaster.

_______
The 3D printer built into the fabric of his walls was the deluxe edition, and the payment bounced like the rest of them. Now he couldn’t even print a new couch even if he could restart his service. He sat down in the middle of the empty room and a pit formed in his stomach. Tyrell’s ex would be dropping off his son tomorrow, and once she saw the state of his apartment, everything she ever said or thought about him would be confirmed. He knew what would happen next. She would march his son out the door, and the state would evaluate his fitness to be a father. Because of a few overdraft fees, he would never see his son again.

His paycheck had hit the account a week ago. The negative balance was slightly less negative but still not even enough for a meal. Tyrell was hungry because even the food in his fridge (not to mention the fridge itself) was on a subscription service. He was lucky that lunch was a perk at his place of employment, so he at least got one meal a day plus whatever he could shove into his pockets.

Tyrell pondered borrowing some money to clear the balance and at least re-up his kid’s room subscription service. His mother had less money than him. His father was in prison, and his friends always owed him money. That left payday loans, which were worse. He’d owe more money than he could afford in interest and be right back where he started. However, the black hole of payday loans was tempting. Maybe his ex would be a little more sympathetic when she saw he spent his last dime on his son.

Tyrell wrung his hands and cursed the overdraft fees. There were fees to keep his drone technician license up-to-date. There were fees for phones, utilities, and roadways. Every time he encountered a necessary task from the government, there were fees. There were late fees, overdraft fees, neighborhood associations fees, parking fees, and the ultimate scam, the electronic processing fee.

It also didn’t help that most of his paycheck would go to his ex. The money was supposed to be for his son, but he saw her nails and hair. They weren’t cheap to maintain. He cut that thought before it could go any further. Whenever things got rocky, he’d blame her for their problems, which led to the divorce. It wasn’t until he almost lost his son that he realized he had some of the blame to share as well.

He sat in an empty apartment and waited for his life to crumble.

The doorbell rang.

He tiptoed toward the front door. His footsteps echoed in the empty apartment, and the noise was unsettling. He almost didn’t answer the door, but the doorbell was persistent. He swung it opened, and a white guy with a long beard and thick glasses said, “Tyrell Bryant?”

“Who’s asking?” Tyrell said.

“We have a delivery for you,” the man said, and a screen appeared between them with a signature box. Tyrell reached out and signed for the package with a flick of his finger. The man went back downstairs to get the shipment. Tyrell racked his brain for what it could possibly be. The various Kickstarter campaigns would always come with a reward, but they would still be digital.

In fact, he couldn’t remember the last time he had a physical object shipped to his house.
It was way more expensive to order an object like a fancy new kitchen knife and have it delivered than to pay a low monthly fee for a fully stocked kitchen of any utensil he desired. Only elderly people like his grandma had kitchens with all these drawers and cabinet space. Before his subscription ran out, he’d punch in the tool he needed, and it would appear on the counter in front of him. When he was done, it would disappear along with the mess. It was much better than loading the dishwasher, like when he was a kid.

Only collectors and wealthy people seemed to own physical objects anymore. He had a friend who would buy the hundred-dollar tier on Kickstarter just to buy a physical copy of a book because he liked the way the pages felt. He used to think his friend was such an oddball. However, his entire collection of Kickstarter reward books disappeared when the EliteCloudPlatinum digital storage space had expired. He would not make fun of his friend anymore because of what he’d give for a book or something to take his mind off his encounter with his ex tomorrow.

The bearded man didn’t come back with a book or anything that could even be misconstrued as a reward for supporting a crowd-funded campaign. It was a couch, a large brown sofa with a stain resistant finish.

“Where you want it?” the bearded man said.

“I didn’t order this,” Tyrell said.

“If there is a problem with the order, take it up with the place you bought it from. We are just the delivery service.” The man rolled his eyes. His partner set the couch down and leaned against it.

“No, what I mean to say is you got the wrong address.”

“Are you Tyrell Bryant? At this address?”

“Yeah.”

“Then all this stuff is yours.”

“What do you mean all?” Just as Tyrell said that, two more large men hefted a twin-sized bed up the stairs. It was the perfect size for his son’s room.

“You can refuse delivery—” the bearded man began.

“No, you can put that over here, and that bed can go in the smaller of the two bedrooms under the window,” Tyrell said. His prayers had been answered. Even if it was a mix-up, maybe he could keep the stuff long enough to clear his account and give his son a place to stay for the week.

For the rest of the night, the movers lugged a two-bedroom apartment’s worth of furniture up three flights of stairs and down the hall to 307. He was getting the full service from lamps to a new bed, and even kitchen utensils (including a cart to store them in). He also got a network-enabled TV, not that it would do any good without subscriptions to any of the streaming services. To his surprise, he even got a bookshelf with enough books to make his friend jealous. What really amazed him was an archaic piece of technology called a Blu-ray player. He hadn’t seen one of those since he was a kid. Physical movie players disappeared when collections went digital. Some of the movies included were ones he remembered watching as a kid in his pajamas with his father. However, oddly enough, there were new movies too, even though companies stopped making Blu-rays years and years ago.

Before he could ponder any further, the bearded man shoved a stylus in Tyrell’s face and sent him a request to share a screen. “Sign here to verify that it is all here.”

“Since I don’t know what supposed to be here, sure, I’ll sign,” Tyrell said. The bearded man and his colleagues walked out the door. He could hear them mumbling something about rich people as they went for the elevator. Tyrell would have been right there grumbling with them if his apartment wasn’t fully loaded with subscription-free furniture. The couch itself must have been worth years of Couch+ service, and it was sitting in his place.

Tyrell was pretty sure it wasn’t illegal to accept gifts, and for all he knew, the furniture was a gift. It was addressed to him, and while he didn’t know all of his neighbors, he was pretty sure a person who could afford to have furniture delivered wouldn’t live in his apartment complex. He was sure they lived in compounds with private lakes in the center. Even if they did come looking for it, he’d give it back. All he needed was a few weeks to get his bank account back on track.
Until he knew otherwise, he decided to treat it like it was his own.

That was until the police showed up on his doorstep a week later.

 

My Patreon Page

It’s been a while since I last contacted you all because two things needed to happen. I needed to be able to walk again (check) and The Robin Hood of Couches needed to be complete (check). If you recall, back in January we raised over $1000 for The Robin Hood of Couches on Kickstarter, but the campaign didn’t fund its overall goal, so I didn’t get any money.

Instead of funding the book through Kickstarter where I don’t get any money, I’m switching to Patreon, where I get what you generously donate regardless if it is only 1 person or 100. I’m hoping that you’ll donate at the same level you did for The Robin Hood of Couches, and you’ll get the same reward. The best part is that Kickstarter had some eye popping shipping fees, I’m going to eat the shipping fees myself, and you’ll get the book for $25 no extra cost for shipping international or otherwise!

In order to keep the shipping low enough for me to do that, I’m going to have to add $10 to the price for signed copies (because I need to ship those books I sign to me, then pay another fee to get it to you). For $35, I’ll sign it and write you a personal message. Part of the benefit of becoming a patron is that people ask me all the time how to get my books in ePub, well this is your chance. The Advanced digital copies will be available in MOBI, ePub, and PDF.

Finally, for those who had picked the rewards to be characters in the book. I can’t do it for this book because I scrimped and saved and have already sent it to a professional editor. But if you get the reward level of minor or major character, I’ll make sure I get you as a character in a future book, as well as getting a signed copy.

The best part about Patreon is that if you like my work, you can continue to donate to each project I do, and it only charges you when I release a new book. Don’t worry, I’ll always let you know when a new book is on the way, so you’ll have time to opt out if the next one isn’t for you. However, right now I only publish about two books a year so that it only costs you $50 a year to help me provide high quality editing, cover art, and all the things that make a book shine. And who knows, if I get more supporters down the line, maybe I’ll publish more than two a year.

Thank you all for your support and you can go here to support me and get The Robin Hood of Couches as your reward and ORION as a the bonus digital book if you choose that level. In order to get this exclusive offer, you’ll need to sign up before 7/25/19. Let’s see if we can blow that Kickstarter campaign out of the water!

Thank you again for your support.