Posts Tagged ‘reign of fire’

When I was struck with the idea for the story of ‘What Have We Done?  The Dragon Chronicles’ I had been on a sci-fi binge one quiet weekend.  While I watched Resident Evil, Reign of Fire, Jurassic Park, and others I contemplated how I had heard so many times “I have this great idea for a book!”  from friends and acquaintances.  It occurred to me that, as far as I knew, none of them had ever acted on any of those novelesque ideas.  I thought back about all the times I myself had said that very phrase and plot ideas began to flow.  I was IN LOVE with the secret underground (illegal) laboratory.  I couldn’t pass up the monsters’ created by man in an effort to make our lives better or more enjoyable.  I began to examine how I might be able to fit these concepts together and how these kinds of concepts would come together in a believable story.

Once I had a basic idea for a plot I began to think about the various characters.  I knew immediately that I had to have a heroine instead of a hero.  Why?  I have no idea but it worked fantastically for the plot of the story.  I suppose this is the point where any writer must decide which fits better for their story.  I thought about what my aspirations were as a child.  I could think of only one, well only one that was relevant.  I wanted to be a private detective.  (The other was a vampire but that didn’t really fit into the story, LOL).  The first character I created was just that, I reversed my own name and my ex-private eye/facility enforcer was born.  My beautiful, strong heroine was next followed by my dog.  Yes, my dog.  My miniature teacup chihuahua (Gigabyte) became Cujo, the pet of the facility administrator.  Sorry Mr. King, I just couldn’t pass up the irony of a chihuahua named Cujo.

For the initial writing of this novel, I actually wrote it at work.  I was a night security guard and had 30 minutes of sit and stare out the window time each hour.  Life has changed.  Job has changed.  Now, I write basically whenever I get the free, quiet, time to do so.  When isn’t necessarily something you can ‘schedule’.  For many of us it just is whenever life leaves you alone long enough to do it.  The important thing is to write as often as possible.  Even if you aren’t inspired to write at that particular moment.  Even if what you find yourself writing is crap.  Write anyway.  The next time you find a moment to write you can look back on what you wrote the last time and if you decide you didn’t like it, re-write it or find an idea or tidbit of inspiration in it.

I don’t really have a specific flow chart for writing.  Many blogs will give you a list or a method or a step by step.  I am way to random.  I basically jot down every thought, however stupid and retarded or brilliant they may be, on a notepad, generally taking many sheets of paper.  Then I will flip back and forth through them and elaborate on each idea with specific character interactions, delemas, key plot points, etc. and put them in a loose order.  Once I actually begin to write the story I will shift the order around and add or delete from the list as the story develops.  I love to visualize the story as I write it.  Seeing, in my head, the plot playing out as I want the reader to see it and then make changes to the way it’s written to make it more ‘visual’ for a reader.

I have taken most of my inspiration for sci-fi t.v. and movies, however, some writers who have inspired me have been Edgar Rice Burroughs (specifically the Martian Tales), Neal Stephenson (Snowcrash) and Robert A. Heinlein (The Cat Who Walks Through Walls).  Currently I am drawing great inspiration from the recent explosion in the steampunk genre.  Not really any specific author but really just steampunk in general.  However, my greatest inspiration is taken from my wife and children.

Getting published was an interesting and ultimately fruitless ride.  I searched for months for a literary agent, nothing.  After almost a year of researching them and submitting the information in the formats they specified, I finally got a lucky strike.  The agent put me through a series of tasks, with one colleague after another, charged me money (gggrrrr!) and after many assurances, eventually contacted me and told me they had “put my book on the back burner do to lack of interest”.  During that time the one thing she did do for me was help me find a “professional” editing service.  They told me very little needed to be edited and the only thing I needed to change was some minor paragraph formatting.  So I did.

By the time I made it to the prestigious and lofty position of “the back burner” I finally decided to look elsewhere.  I spoke to many authors including self published authors and found that seemed to be a great deal.  Now, self publishing generally means you don’t get the little extra bit of promotional help but other than that I was thoroughly pleased with their service.  Unfortunately, I erroneously believed my ex-literary agent when she told me the manuscript didn’t need any further editing than what I had been done and being eager to publish, I did not get a second opinion.  Lessons learned through hindsight are often the most bittersweet.  Moral of the story, ALWAYS check, recheck and recheck again to be absolutely sure your grammar, spelling and formatting are as close to perfect as possible.

The self publishing process however, was nothing less than awesome.  Easy, quick, cost effective, and fun. even has a book cover editor/creator on their site.  They explain exactly how to format it, help get an ISBN number and a bar code, even walk you through the steps to choose the type of book.  The only out of pocket cost was the one book they send to the author, at the authors cost, to verify that everything about the book is just how ya want it.  For me this was seven dollars and some odd cents, plus shipping.  Once confirmed they even provide you with a storefront that your website can link to

People often ask me how long it takes to write a novel.  There are way too many factors to even attempt to equate that into a time frame.  I wrote the initial manuscript in a little less than three months and spent another three months going through and re-writing/formatting the story.  I have been slowly working on the second book in the trilogy for almost a year now.  It all depends on what else is going on in your life, distractions, responsibilities and motivations.

“What Have We Done?  The Dragon Chronicles” is the first of a trilogy.  I am currently working on the second book which will be titled “Dragon Bound  The Dragon Chronicles”.  In addition to that I have planned a book with a distinctive “Dungeons and Dragons” flavor to it about a guy who is transported to an alternate world, learns about himself and what he is capable of, faces is own worst enemy and ultimately achieves his quest, and then returns to his own world to find everything he once knew to be gone.  I am also researching a novel that is, as of yet, untitled.  This novel with have heavy religious influences and a strong steampunk flavoring.  This story will include angels, demons, vampires and low tech super warriors, most of which in roles you would never have thought!

I invite you all to visi5t the websites for “What Have We Done?  The Dragon Chronicles” and “Dragon Bound  The Dragon Chronicles” for tidbits and snippets of the stories and to look me up on Facebook, Twitter and my blog “Wild Side Of Writing“.!/Bconsortium

Dragon Sword

Ceremonial Dagger of the Dragon Riders in Author Mike Bailey's second sci-fi novel, Dragon Bound The Dragon Chronicles

Dragon Bound:  The Dragon Chronicles

There has been MUCH discussion in some circles about the upcoming 2nd book in my The Dragon Chronicles series titled Dragon Bound.  With this in mind and the hopes that the book will be released next summer, I thought it was time to give my readers and fans a lil insight into what they might expect in book two.

Many have already guessed that there will be aliens in the second book.  Good Guess!  There are indeed aliens… and boy are they pissed at us!!!  After having their race all but annihilated exactly as mankind was the aliens come looking for us thinking the dragons were an act of war.

After their arrival on earth their minds are changed and eventually we become allies of sorts… for a while.  Over time aliens and humans are integrated so far into each other’s lives, becoming a totally new society, that they even begin to mate.

The eventuality of this situation dictates that tensions rise, once again, and opposing factions begin to break off.  All thought of what was gained by the alliance is put behind and purists surface with a new focus for mankind.  Reminiscent of the racial differences of our own past, the new tensions begin to deteriorate what has been built.

However, there is an unforeseen and unexpected turn of events.  The alien/human hybrid offspring are somewhat telepathic.  This ability gives us all, once again, the upper hand.  Yep, the hybrids have the ability to control the dragons telepathically, but only the weaker minded, easier to control, dragons.  Enter…. Dragon Riders!!!

The Dragon Riders not only harness the dragons to ride in battle with other dragons but are also then charged with some other peace keeping duties.  Their weapon of choice is a long handled bladed weapon.  The first time a dragon rider holds his weapon it “brands” the palm of his hand with an emblem.  Then each time the weapon is held after that the brand is opened and begins to bleed allowing the weapon to draw on the owner’s life force.  The weapon uses this life force to emit an “electrical” charge that interferes with the nanobots in the dragon’s blood stream, making the dragon riders, and their weapon, pretty darn effective against the dragon crisis.

The photo above (courtesy of White Trash Weaponry and BudK) is the Dragon Rider’s ceremonial dagger.  It is used for all kinds of ceremonies and rituals.  The most important of these is the induction of the hybrid into the Dragon Rider’s order.  While it is not the weapon that “brands” the rider’s hand, it is still carried and used with honor and acts as a symbol of status as well.

I welcome any thoughts, ideas and critiques all of you might have, please leave anything you have to say in the comments below.  I invite you, also, to click the “Who Is Misha Korenski” tab at the top of the blog to read an article written by Misha herself recently.  Get to know the main character from ‘What Have We Done?  The Dragon Chronicles” and feel free to leave her comments or ask her questions.

For excerpts from both books check out this article, this article and this article also posted on this blog.

Thank you all for reading!!!


The small group of dragons flew loosely together. All the others had gone in separate directions in search of opportunity to satisfy their hunger. Fueled bloodlust and hate they didn’t fully understand, they searched for their destiny. It seemed an eternity in the blackness, never having known the surface of the planet where their ancestors had lived.

They had accumulated great speed but they didn’t realize it was a different type of flight from those their ancestors had experienced back on the surface of the planet where their race was born many generations before. Having not thought about it they didn’t even realize there was another kind of flight. They didn’t know it would be different within an atmosphere or with gravity.

Looking for a place to rest their wings and sleep some they take rest on a small rock floating through the blackness. Faint memory of previous generations told them that this was called an ‘asteroid’ in the language of their creators. It was small, barely large enough for the three of them. Not understanding that their roars weren’t supposed to be silent they settled in to rest. The edge of anxiousness made their sleep fitful and short before something jerked them awake.

They stood and looked around instantly when their senses suddenly sprang to life with the realization that they were no longer alone in the blackness. Then they saw it, leaping into flight without hesitation they headed for the metal rock. Something was different about this rock. Somehow they knew it was their purpose to find out what it was. Somehow they knew they had to investigate and satisfy their curiosity.


The alarms sounded. Antrel leaped from the game of Glosrah he was engrossed in and raced to the nearest interface room. The flurry of activity distracted him only momentarily but he soon found a seat and slipped his fingers into the thick foamy solution used to interface with the ship. Instantly a virtual screen appeared in front of his face as he gave the ship commands via the visual receptors implanted at birth. The ship reported that they had been boarded externally but the integrity of the ship was still intact. He fired a probe to get a visual feed of what was on the outside of the ship.

Panic ensued all around him as he worked to determine the cause of the alarms. Then he saw it. The creature was unlike anything he’d ever seen but was obviously a formidable opponent should it prove to be aggressive. As he sat studying the creature, making note of the physical attributes, he felt both excitement and fear at this contact. The others had made their own discoveries. He switched over to the other probes that had been launched to see more of what they were facing and simultaneously turned off the screeching alarm. Then his stomach sank at what he saw and fear overtook him, but only for a moment.

He watched frozen in place for only a moment as one of the creatures literally RIPPED the outter shell of the ship open with his claws. Their shields were designed to protect the ship from asteroids, floating debris and both projectile and energy weapons. They hadn’t been designed to repel a biological intruder. Too late Antrel had the brief realization that this was a major flaw in their defenses. He was both awestruck and dismayed at the ease at which the creature shredded the metal shell of the ship. As he flipped back through the other probes it occurred to him that this was a coordinated attack. “Halshnirk! We’re under attack!!”, he cried before sounding the alert to arms, knowing these creatures would be difficult to combat.

Antrel joined his shipmates and friends to stop this intrusion. Grabbing up his Vlantoi he ran towards the nearest intrusion point. The shouts of anger and haste followed him down the corridor while the screams of pain and fear awaited him somewhere up ahead. The corridor was full, from side to side, with his comrades eager to join in the defense of their ship. Then they heard it and all stopped dead in their tracks. They heard it again and again, coming from around the next bend in the corridor.

The loud, crashing footsteps of massive armored feet and deafening roars of a hate filled bloodlust echoed through the ship. Antrel began to inch forward again, followed closely by the others, but quickly stopped and began to search the faces of those around him when he caught scent of the death ahead. The fear grew in their eyes as they paused in growing hesitation to move forward. Rallying the others with a war cry as loud as he could muster he turned towards the noises and scent of death, readied his weapon as he had been trained from birth and charged into battle. He took one last glimpse back, seeing those following him and realizing he was leading many of them to their deaths.


The dragons regarded each other’s reactions as they landed on and examined this object. They noted the slight vibrations and the smooth surface. Testing the new object they stomped on it, pawed at it, scratched it, but no reaction. “So whatever it is, it not alive” thought one of the dragons.

They continued to eye the various surface features which resembled what they somehow knew to be types of antennae and communications dishes and determined that this must have been built by those who had created them. The three of them, almost simultaneously, became angry at the thought that they had found more of those who had imprisoned their ancestors. And then they attacked, furiously.

The object seemed to have no defenses. Their claws pierced right through the metal skin of the object. They barely noticed the small orbs floating around them as if watching them. They did however notice the scent of biological, living creatures from within the object as they ripped small pieces from it and flung them into space. That smell was the smell of meat! That smell was the smell of food!

Further fueled by their hunger they shredded large areas of the objects surface in their attempt to gain access to the interior. The atmosphere of the interior of the object had a faint greyish tinge to it as it vented itself to space through the small openings they had created. Slowly they managed to make those small openings larger and larger.

Screams and the sounds of panic could be heard from inside the object by the dragons. Their drive to gain entry peaked thinking it was those they hated so much. With one final mighty yank a portion of the metallic skin large enough for them to enter was wrenched free from the surface and the first dragon dove through into a long wide hallway.

The other two dragons soon gained entry in the same fashion. Ripping and tearing at the surface until they could fit through the openings. The venting atmosphere felt strangely odd when it was felt against their eyes and nostrils but didn’t hurt at all. It was thicker than outside somehow and had a faint taste they weren’t familiar with. Each paused for a moment taking in the layout and the sights around them before suddenly being attacked.

They fought back somewhat confused about what was attacking them. They had a vague resemblance to those they remembered from their ancestry, those who had imprisoned them and murdered their kin. They were different however and briefly it occurred to each that this was not the same race that oppressed them. By the time they realized they had mistakenly attacked the wrong creatures it was too late, they had already done the damage and had to fight back to save their own lives at the very least.

The dragons struggled to understand how these creatures could be so similar to the others and yet so different. “Were they the same race?” they wondered. Quietly taking notice of the physical differences they decided they must be. They were shorter and thinner. The arms and legs were longer. The facial features were different. The beings were obviously well muscled but the smaller size made them seem to be more vulnerable than the others. “They must be the same race. Or at least from the same lineage.” They thought. “They ARE related to the others, they must be! We must kill them! Dragons will not be prisoners again. We must kill them all!”

Expecting it to be silent, one dragon let out a mighty roar. Shocked at his own dominating voice he roared again and again and then heard his kin elsewhere in the ship. Hearing their voices for the first time he felt the pride of his entire race well up inside him. Setting aside the confusion and contemplation he attacked.

Silently amused by the weapons of these creatures bouncing off his armored skin he snatched any who ventured too closely in his claws or teeth and ripped them to shreds. Devouring pieces of torn flesh when the chance to do so presented itself, he continued his leisurely assault on these beings. He was only slightly aware of the mild discomfort and momentary loss of physical prowess each time one of their blades contacted his body. Not giving it much thought or even understanding the implications of those sensations he would have no way of knowing that those weapons would be the basis for a weapon much more effective than that the others had used on his ancestors.


Rounding the corner in the hallway, Antrel was nearly knocked from his feet by the torso of one of his comrades flying through the air. He sidestepped just far enough that the dismembered corpse glanced off his shoulder as he twisted his body to the side. Faintly aware of the warriors behind him scattering to avoid the gruesome projectile as well he crouched in a stance of attack, readied his weapon and prepared himself to join in the melee.

The shock of the gory scene he was seeing was nothing compared to that creature that was causing the carnage. The destruction was unbelievable but as his eyes fell on the creature he felt the fear reaffirm its grip on his heart and mind. Almost losing his footing in the blood stained floor in his momentary pause he steadied himself and ran toward the creature, weapon raised, yelling a war cry that seemed to him to sound more like a shriek of terror.

He pulled an old friend, his private teacher in fact, back just before the creature’s claws could tear him in two. Looking into the other’s eyes he could see the same fear he felt deep within himself. Standing he pushed the old teacher to the back, towards a somewhat safer position, and took his place. Eyeing the creature carefully, he scanned for a weak spot. He saw none.

As he dodged flying body parts, gore and pieces of shrapnel from the ship around him he saw blow after blow after blow of the other’s weapons’ failing to even scratch the creature. In fact, they seemed to fail to do anything except make it angrier. The sheer intensity of the creature’s rage and hatred was overwhelmingly awesome. Then, in the blink of an eye, the creature was in front of him. The massiveness of this creature nearly caused his legs to buckle under him. His hand shook as he drew his weapon between himself and the creature as menacingly as possible.

The skin looked more like thick scaly armor plates. The body was solid and extremely muscled. He couldn’t tell the span of the wings with them folded neatly on the creature’s back but it didn’t matter. The dangerous parts were the six inch long, obviously finely honed claws and rows of teeth glistening with the blood of the dead all around him.

It occurred to him that this creature was designed specifically for this, specifically to kill. The teeth alone seemed to be engineered for the act of ripping things to shreds. As he desperately searched for some weakness, some place not as heavily armored as the rest, the creature opened its massive jaw, bellowed a mighty roar that shook the walls, and lunged forward. Without thinking, Antrel thrust his weapon. He struck. To his surprise the blade felt as if it penetrated. He thrust harder, pushing the blade home, until he felt something on his arm.

When he opened his eyes he realized it was the creature’s teeth. He had plunged his weapon through the roof of the creature’s mouth and presumably into its brain. There was a look of disbelief in the creature’s eyes. The electrical discharge from his weapon popped and sizzled in the soft flash of the creatures mouth as he watched its body contort and convulse. Antrel found himself momentarily feeling sorry for the creature as it came to the shaky realization of what had happened but the guilt at having taken a life quickly subsided as the cheer went up around him. In that moment the creature’s life gave out and it collapsed.

His arm was cut by the teeth as the creature fell but Antrel gladly took this minor injury instead of the alternative. He looked around at the survivors of the battle. He saw sadness, triumph, fear and grief but mostly, mostly he saw disbelief. They all took a collective breath of relief at the sight of the creature lying dead on the floor. And then they heard it. From somewhere in a distant corridor another of the creatures roared. Antrel drew a fearful gasp as yet another from another direction answered with a roar of his own. Again he broke into a run, some of the others following him, the rest presumably heading for the other roars. The sounds of the roars, the alarms, the atmosphere being sucked past them to the breaches in the ship’s skin all made the moment deafening. “Why”, he thought? “Why are they attacking us? What have we done?”


As the door opened into the long room Antrel and the others were hit with dismay at the destruction and death toll. This battle had been much worse than theirs. The bodies of his friends and companions were piled high all around them. Body parts and dismembered body parts lay everywhere. Blood and internal organs were splattered over every surface in the room.

The creature was perched atop a pile of torn and broken bodies looking directly at them as they entered. It seemed unimpressed and uninterested as it gulped down bite after bite of fresh meat. The sight of the creature’s meal was enough to cause many of the warriors to double over in uncontrollable vomiting. Frozen in place, unable to process the severity of loss within this room, they stood and stared. After what seemed to them to be an eternity the creature raised its head and looked them over with renewed interest. They could see the gleam in its eye that could only be described as psychotic and murderous.

In that instant the creature stood on its hind legs, spread his wings and flexed his claws towards them. Showing his teeth, dripping with the blood of its victims, it roared. Loud enough to hurt their ears the all instinctively took a step back, bracing themselves for the attack and ensuing battle. Each fearing they didn’t have enough left in them after the last battle to put down another of these creatures.

As Antrel raised his weapon and began looking for a way to bury it into the creature’s mouth as he had done to its companion, a kerl flew past his head close enough that he felt the breeze of its flight. Looking back over his shoulder he saw Sorn already preparing another to be loosed.

The screeching roar of pain from the creature snapped his attention back forward in time to see it fall lifeless to the floor, the kerl protruding through the teeth at an odd angle. “Nice shot Sorn!” he said. “Lucky shot, just like yours Antrel”, was the reply.

With that they broke into an exhausted jog, side by side, heading for where they presumed yet another creature would be. They were cautious but both knew the urgency required at this particular moment. They had to find what they hoped would be the last of these creatures.

Then the ship suddenly shuddered. They both almost fell, slamming into walls, as the whole ship seemed to list to the side. “What the Halshnirk was that”, screamed Antrel. They didn’t know that the wounds they had inflicted on the creatures had in fact pierced the organ within their throats and mouths that produced the acidic compound that caused the burned and melted damage they had seen. They didn’t know that this acid had been oozing out of the bodies, slowing eating its way through the ship. They didn’t know that it had found its way to the outer walls of the ship having burned through both a series of control systems AND at least one major propulsion component. They didn’t know that this damage had released a toxic gas into the ship and that many of the survivors were already dead.

They forced themselves back to their feet and moved forward down the hall sure that there was yet another battle just beyond the next hatch. As the door slid open they caught only a glimpse of the creature leaping out through a huge hole in the ceiling. They barely got the door closed again before they were sucked out with it as the atmosphere was pulled into space.

The ship shuddered again. They raced to the main control room knowing they had to determine for sure if all the creatures were gone. The leapt through the door to the control room and stood silently in dismay yet again. Not believing what they were seeing Sorn collapsed. Thinking it was the exhaustion from the battle Antrel continued, noticing that the bodies here weren’t dismembered or crushed. There was no damage to the room. There was no destruction. There was no carnage. There was nothing to explain why everyone in the room was dead.

Antrel put it out of his head momentarily, thinking he could figure it out later. He busied himself sealing off the damaged areas and then felt his heart sink once again with the discovery of why everyone here was dead. He tried his best to vent the poisonous gas but it was all over the ship.

He didn’t know the ships automatic recall had been tripped with the hull integrity alarms. He didn’t know the ships course had changed and was now heading for his own world. He didn’t know that the creature that had escaped had laid eggs on board. He didn’t know what was in store for his race. His last thought as he collapsed to the floor, taking his dying breath, was that his friend hadn’t collapsed from exhaustion, he was dead.