Friday, March 20, 2020

Live by the Sword . . . Well. You Know.


When it comes to murder most foul, or in this case fowl, I lean toward being an Angry Old God. Especially for the final boss fight. Sure, my books have body counts. The SFRs tend toward the usual thing - laser rifles and plasma pistols with maybe an odd genetically-designed plague thrown in. The kicker in the SFR is that the ones who develop the disease engineered it so they can't be infected. They're using the disease to poison humans like we might poison vermin. And maybe as a bit of payback, since their first contact with humans gave them every illness known to humans and nearly wiped them out as a species. They have very little sympathy.

In the UF, it's magic every time, baby. Specifically, magic tattoos that draw their power from your life force - maybe from your soul. If you have the will power to maintain balance, you and your tattoo will be pretty darned powerful. Fail and that tattoo will suck up every ounce of who and what you are to take control. But if a power hungry bad guy starts trying to hijack other people's power? Then the tattoos rip right off of your body, taking vital animating force with them when they go. 

When it comes to my heroines rising to meet their final challenges with whichever nemesis is theirs, they turn the bad guys' favorite weapon against them. In that regard, I am very much live by the sword, die by the sword. Even if that sword is a figment of your telepathically enhanced imagination.

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