The Lion's Way Fans!
Okay you guys have been great and patient, getting our newsletters and free excerpts and all the time knowing that if Marco Marsan and Peter Lloyd conceived of something (The Lion's Way) it had to be more than a newsletter and free excerpt, right?
Well go to Forza Facia and see what else we are up to. We are putting our money where our mouth or pen is. Fixing this messed up world takes small, hopeful gestures and this is ours. If you have money you’d like to donate the Forza Foundation page is set up so that you can contribute to Save Darfur, The ONE Campaign, Make it Right, Kiva, Greater Good Network, and the Alliance for Climate Protection. When you buy a book know that we are helping to move the “middle” even just a little bit thanks to your support.
It means so much to us to know that your hearts and minds are open. This really does mean a lot to us, so thanks for your support.
Forza!!
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Bellator shook as he screamed, “I want anyone who looks like them, or says good things about them, or so much as whispers the name Forza with even a shade of approval . . . I want them dead! Today!”
His assistant, Rowan, had grown accustomed to Bellator’s outbursts, but tonight, in the rubble riddled banquet hall, the Second Minister rose to a new level of rage. Rowan instinctively assumed the voice of reason. “But, sir,” Rowan calmly pointed out, “that would be half of the population.”
“I don’t care,” Bellator roared. “We’re going to end this right now!” His voice broke like a clap of thunder and echoed around the hall. For a brief moment the cleanup crew and police investigators froze before resuming their work. “Letting this nonsense go on under my nose—that was my first mistake. Now it’s personal. I want these shitbags eradicated! I don’t care what we have to do!”
Rowan watched the veins in Bellator’s neck. They looked as if they were ready to burst.
“And all of my bodyguards on duty last night—they’re all fired. All of them.”
“Yes, sir. I’ll get the Indomitable Lions on it immediately, sir.”
“I want the best of the best Lions on this assignment, Rowan.”
“Absolutely, sir.”
“And not just one. Get me two . . . No, make it six.”
“Yes, sir. Six.”
Rowan hurried from the hall. Alone with his fury, the Second Minister stormed over to a window, looked out over the city, and hissed through his teeth, “Where are you, you miserable sons of a bitches? We’re going back to the old ways of dealing with you fuckers.”
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