Today, I’m doing something a little different. I’m providing some excerpts from a series of books called “The Brittle Riders” by Bill McCormick. Check them out below.

The Brittle Riders: Book One

Excerpt One

Preamble

Above.
An olive-backed forest robin leapt from its perch, singing its happy song to the new day while letting its unbridled joy gleefully echo above the treetops. A Fox Kestral heard the song and shared its joy, albeit for slightly different reasons. It swooped down from on high, snagged the robin, killed it, and began eating the tasty delicacy as it flew into the beautiful African dawn.

Below.

A servant noticed drops of blood and a tiny feather on the napkins. He quickly discarded them into a nearby trash receptacle, replaced them with new finery, and silently cursed outdoor parties again.
Later, servants’ curses or not, it was a beautiful night for a party. The two halves of the long-desecrated moon were in full light, and the winds of the Kalahari plains were dry and refreshing.
Delicate Zzin music wafted across the fountainade and pool. The revelers stood around sipping Sominid Brandy, silently sizing-up each other’s spouses.

Excerpt Two

The buffet was huge, stretching almost thirty meters. There was food and drink from every culture in attendance displayed across its wide expanse. The nude waiters and waitresses were just decadent enough to entertain but not enough to earn extra money. All in all, you would not guess this evening would signal the end of civilization.

However, apocalypses are funny that way.

Edward Q. Rohta was hosting the extravaganza in question. A brilliant geneticist and avowed
hedonist who wintered in Africa. Of course, this home was neither as large nor ornate as the one
back in his native Brazil, but it would have to do for the evening. He had moved a large part of his
laboratory here to finish his latest work. This work was going to make him the hit of the party
world. It would also serve to make him annoyingly richer. Neither thought dismayed him.

He entered from the veranda onto the deck next to the fountainade wearing a transparent gray
robe. His three husbands and five wives walked beside him.

About Book One

In a far future, Earth had already been visited by an alien race called the Sominids, who came here for the express purpose of drinking and having sex with everyone they could. When one of their infamous parties resulted in the moon being cut in half and killing everyone who happened to live there, they quietly left. Their encounter with the Sominids had taught the human race many things, primarily that faster-than-light travel did not exist. Denied the stars, the human race began to dwindle in numbers and terminate all of their space programs.

A thousand years later, a scientist named Edward Q. Rohta circumvented anti-AI laws, laws which had been on the books for millennia, by creating organic creatures to provide manual labor. Instead of dying after ten years, as promised in the company brochure, they would develop flu-like symptoms and go into hiding. Eventually, fed up with the mistreatment they suffered at the hands of humans, they rose up and killed every man, woman, and child on the planet. This is the story of what happens next. The Brittle Riders; Apocalypses are funny that way.

A very unique tone and world, reminiscent of GUARDIANS OF THE GALAXY meets a MAGNIFICENT SEVEN/DIRTY DOZEN – type setup, but with a look, flavor, and lexicon all its own. In a world where studios and streamers are looking for IP that’s expansive, both narratively and in terms of ancillary possibilities (prequels, offshoots, video games, etc.), (The Brittle Riders) certainly seems to offer up a number of possibilities. – Garrick Dion – Producer

The Brittle Riders: Book Two

Excerpt One

P’marna was as nervous as a small before her first kiss. It had been five Full Suns since the fall of Anapsida, and she’d been much busier than she would have thought. Her Queen had been as good as her word and had invited N’leah to stay with them in their new home with the Dwellers of the Pit.

And she had when she could, but it had been two full seasons since they’d last been together.
However, in just a few cliks, she’d be here again.

She nervously paced the entranceway of the new, albeit insignificant, palace Elder Urnak had built for Queen A’lnuah and her burgeoning court. Diminutive, that is, compared to the Minotaurs’, it still could hold one thousand brands. The spurs of her heels made a soft clicking sound which was augmented by her tapping the talons of each toe against the new stone. She hadn’t realized how many new appointments would need to be made after the war.

Excerpt Two

The Succubi had lived on the fringe for so long that they’d been forced, by necessity, to pare any diplomatic staff down to its bare essentials. Not counting the number of brands needed to staff even a small palace, now there were ambassadors, trade representatives, couriers, and more who were all needed to deal with each warren and the lands of the new Lord Südermann.

The new Lord Südermann was nice, like her father, but had only been fifteen Full Suns old when she’d assumed power. As well-trained as she was, she had no actual experience. And, unlike her predecessors, she’d been the first Südermann who’d been denied the opportunity to work alongside her father for her two Full Sun apprenticeships. It had been a very delicate time for a while. P’marna had been dispatched to deal with the young lord on several occasions back then because she felt she had a gentler way about her. P’marna didn’t know if it was true or not, but she and the adolescent Südermann had gotten along very well.

About Book Two

A forgotten facility, lost in the frosts of the Pacific Northwest, holds the means to resurrect a conquered evil. To, once again, allow it to threaten the peaceful lands of Arreti. Unlike its previous iteration this time it will be surrounded by some of the finest minds on the planet.

Geldish, BraarB, R’yune, N’leah, and Sland had thought their warrior days behind them. Instead of sitting in comfortable bars, drinking good booze, and laughing at tales of heroics gone by, they find themselves mounting nyesteeds to face a legendary, and now all too real, terror. This time, however, they are joined by a new ally, Ben al-Salaam, a brand from the east who is as confused by them as they are by him.

As conflict marches ever closer they will find themselves joined by brave new allies and facing frightening new enemies. The first war may be over but a second looms darkly on the horizon and, this time, it will be fought on foreign soil. No matter the winner the result may be genocide.

Dark satire presented in a violent burlesque designed to make you think while you laugh and cringe.

The Brittle Riders: Book Three

Excerpt One

PREAMBLE: AFTERMATH

Yontar was bleeding but happy. Were he to think about it fully, he was oozing puss, suffering throbbing muscles, fighting weird infections, losing layers of flesh, and covered with horrible wounds AND bleeding.

Still and all, he was happy. It had been forty turns since the nightmare at the Kalindorian border, and he was alive. ‘Barely’ was an adjective he was willing to ignore.

It had taken twenty turns since the battle against the army of the Plains and all its allies before he could move and another ten before he could walk upright. The Named Ones had made him a bed of leaves once he’d awoken and stripped what little clothing had survived so they could clean his injuries each turn.

He knew, well, he assumed, Geldish had destroyed the facility of the makers where he’d come from.

It’s what he would have done, and he and Geldish weren’t all that different in many ways. The main difference was Geldish fought against Yontar while Yontar fought for something.

Excerpt Two

The forward-thinker would always win in the end.

He figured he was the last of his kind. Dagnar didn’t count as far as he was concerned.

His followers, approximately ten thousand reptiloids, a thousand regular Mayanoren, three hundred Named Ones, some red-shirted, and Dagnar, stood by him. They waited for him to heal and then to lead. He was willing to do both and anxious to do the former. Finally able to walk through their camp and assess their situation, he agreed that he would have to make the best of things.

He publicly bemoaned the supposed loss of the facility to the north and was met by a
derisive laugh from a red-shirted Named One.

“A mere bag of shells, Milord,” he said while smiling, “we are on the continent of Rohta’s facility, and it still exists. And, like our makers’ facility, it is self-sustaining. The reptiloids are morons, but we are not. Every brand Rohta made and the reasons for same exists. Also, there is technology there we can only imagine.

About Book Three

A forgotten facility, lost in the frosts of the Pacific Northwest, holds the means to resurrect a conquered evil, to once again, allow it to threaten the peaceful lands of Arreti. Unlike its previous iteration, this time it will be surrounded by some of the finest minds on the planet. Geldish, BraarB, R’yune, N’leah, and Sland had thought their warrior days behind them. Instead of sitting in comfortable bars, drinking good booze, and laughing at tales of heroics gone by, they find themselves mounting nyesteeds to face a legendary, and now all too real terror. This time, however, they are joined by a new ally, Ben al-Salaam, a brand from the east who is as confused by them as they are by him.

As conflict marches ever closer, they will find themselves joined by brave new allies and facing frightening new enemies. The first war may be over, but a second looms darkly on the horizon and, this time, it will be fought on foreign soil. No matter the winner the result may be genocide.

Dark satire presented in a violent burlesque designed to make you think while you laugh and cringe.

About the Author

Bill McCormick began writing professionally in 1986 when he worked for Chicago Rocker Magazine in conjunction with his radio show on Z-95 (ABC-FM). He went on to write for several other magazines and later transitioned to blogs. He wrote a sports blog at Jay The Joke for almost a decade and continues to pen a twisted news blog at World News Center. The latter provided source material for his weekly radio show on WBIG 1280 AM, FOX! Sports from October 2010 to August 2022. Yes, you read that correctly, he did a show about anything other than sports on a sports radio station.

In 2011, Bill started submitting some fictional short stories to various publishers. Much to his surprise, and the consternation of linguists everywhere, they began publishing his efforts. Bill has expanded his repertoire to include comic books, graphic novels, and full-length novels. He has currently penned everything from dystopian nightmares to cuddly children’s stories.

Bill is a big fan of silver tequila, hot sauces, music, and this rainbow-haired goddess who married him and made his life a better place.

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