Greywind

Stat them up

Out of curiosity, Tiger, what are you using to layout your books? If I could give a few pointers about the preview?
I would avoid excessive backgrounds. Particularly when you have text in front of it. It's a bit hard to read in most cases.  Stick to a single font size for the book. Having some stuff at 10pts, then 12pts for something else, and 16pts for another gives it some inconsistency.  The spacing with some of your images are a bit tight, particularly on page 16. You should have a bit more buffer space inserted there. 

I found this link...
 
https://www.humblebundle.com/software/maps-bonanza-software?hmb_source=search_bar
 
 

Trese held a bottle of water out to Jason. When he accepted it, she hoist herself up on a desk. They looked out over the broken cityscape in silence.
 
“Tomorrow is the day,” Trese finally said.
 
“Yes.”
 
“It's a crap shoot with long odds.” Jason nodded. “Aren't you afraid of dying?”
 
Jason's chin sank. “No.”
 
Cocking her head to the side, Trese smiled. For a second Jason could imagine that her face wasn't scarred. That she was as beautiful as she had always been to him. “Then what are you afraid of?” She reached over and took his hand. He gave it willingly.
 
“Of not dying.”
 
“I don't understand.”
 
Walking quietly up behind them, Kris crossed her arms and leaned on Jason's shoulders. His hand came up and held her arm. Kris reached down and lay her hand over Jason's and Trese's. “Survivor's guilt. He's afraid everyone else will die and he'll be the only one left.”

“It is nice to see how the mighty can still be brought low by the many.” Nightwing heaved himself to his feet. He stepped over a body. “Still, you weren't supposed to be here. You weren't supposed to be involved at all.”
 
Between a shattered lens, an eye rapidly swelling shut, and blood, it was hard for Nightwing to make out details. “Who are you?”
 
“Merely a facilitator. A middle man. I am afraid with your involvement that you have sacrificed your prize. As fast as you can fly, I doubt you are fast enough.” The gun in his hand barked in succession.
 
Hand outstretched towards the gun, Nightwing yelled, “No!”
 
“He may not be,” Lightning dropped several bullets, “but I am. There's a saying, you take on one Guardian, sooner or later, you take on all of us.”
 
The skylight shattered and Pulsar dropped through. “You missed one.”
 
“Non-fatal and I knew you were coming,” Lightning said. “So, Mr. Facilitator, let's do this the hard way.” Lightning moved. The gun barked once and then was spinning in place on the desk. “Cops on?” He tossed the man across the desk, bound.
 
Pulsar picked up the gun. “Let's not have him thinking he'll have any options. Bressler is enroute.” He walked over to Steph. “Hi.”
 
“Oh, god, it hurts,” she said quietly.
 
“Only for a moment, Miss Michaels. Only for a moment.”

Closing the book he had been reading, Jason watched Marlene lay their daughter down. She talked quietly to the babe and covered her with a blanket. Marlene came over, sat on the bed, slipped her shoes off, and slid under the covers with her back to Jason.
 
He set the book on the floor of the tent. Turning back, he asked, “Something wrong?”
 
“I'm mad at you.” He heard the teasing tone in his wife's voice.
 
Moving closer, his arm went over her. “What did I do this time?”
 
Rolling on her back, Marlene said, “You gave the first drawing you did of our daughter to Kate.” Jason smiled and kissed her. Accepting initially, Marlene put her fingers on Jason's mouth. “You aren't kissing your way out of this one.”
 
“You're wrong,” he said. “I gave Kate a drawing of Aaron and Sandy together. The first several that I did I gave to you.”
 
“Then why haven't I seen them?”
 
“Take it up with Beth,” Jason told her.
 
“Don't drag me into this,” Beth said through the wall of the tent. “Trying to sleep here.”
 
“Get over here, Bestie,” Marlene demanded with a laugh.
 
Beth groaned. A moment later she came around the divider. “What did I do?” Beth wore a thin t-shirt and shorts, leaving very little of her to Jason's imagination.
 
Patting the bed, Marlene invited Beth to sit. She did. “Jason's drawings of Sandy. Where are they?”
 
“How should I... I never gave you your book.” Beth looked hurt. “I'm sorry. It slipped my mind with you coming back.”
 
“What book?”
 
“Emily convinced Jason to do an art show while you were away. He had books printed. He did sketches for them.”
 
Marlene smiled. “What was yours?”
 
“You and me,” Beth smiled back. “What did you do with that one of me in blue?” she asked Jason.
 
“Gave it to your dad. Framed.”
 
“Can I go back to bed now?” she asked Marlene. Marlene sat up and hugged her.
 
“I guess so.”

Marlene opened the door. “Mr. Michaels, what can I do for you?”
 
Trying to smile, Brad winced. “Is your husband in? My mom and Steph are here. She... Steph, I mean, wants to see him. Thank him for fixing the...”
 
“Come in,” Marlene said. “Jason,” she called out. “Brad would like to speak with you.”
 
“Michaels,” Jason said coming from the bedroom. “What can I do for you?”
 
“My sister, my other sister is here with my mom. Steph would like to meet you.”
 
“Not a problem. Anything else?”
 
“My mom wants me to take them to lunch.”
 
“And?”
 
“She would prefer that I not go looking like I lost a fight.” Brad shuffled his feet and winced. “Could you fix me?” He looked at the floor. “Please?”
 
Marlene smiled to Jason and gave him a quick nod. “I would point out, Michaels, that you did lose that fight.” Brad nodded. “Have a seat.” Jason wiped his hands off on a rag he had draped over a shoulder.
 
Brad made his way to a chair and gingerly sat. “Everything hurts.”
 
“Do yourself a favor. Next time call for help before the fight starts.” Brad nodded again. Jason held his hand out. “Hand.” Brad placed his hand in Jason's. Fingers lightly touching Brad's forehead, Jason let his power flow.
 
* * * * *
“Christ, Michaels. Did Kris check you over?”
 
“Yeah.”
 
“Half your ribs were cracked. Go get cleaned up. I'm going to sit for a few before I go down.”
 
“Yes, sir. Thank you.” Brad made his way to the door and let himself out.
 
“It's a start,” Marlene said with a smile. Jason sat, lay his head back, and waited for his body to deal with the damage.

The marchin' band came down along Main Street
The soldier blues fell in behind
I looked across and there I saw Billy
Waiting to go and join the line
And with her head upon his shoulder
His young and lovely fiancee
From where I stood I saw she was cryin'
And through her tears I heard her say   Billy, don't be a hero, don't be a fool with your life
Billy, don't be a hero, come back and make me your wife
And as he started to go she said, Billy, keep your head low
Billy, don't be a hero, come back to me   The soldier blues were trapped on a hillside
The battle raging all around
The sergeant cried, We've got to hang on, boys!
We've got to hold this piece of ground
I need a volunteer to ride up
And bring us back some extra men
And Billy's hand was up in a moment
Forgettin' all the words she said   She said
Billy, don't be a hero, don't be a fool with your life
Billy, don't be a hero, come back and make me your wife
And as he started to go she said, Billy, keep your head low
Billy, don't be a hero, come back to me   I heard his fiancee got a letter
That told how Billy died that day
The letter said that he was a hero
She should be proud he died that way
I heard she threw that letter away ...

My daddy was a cop on the east side of Chicago
Back in the U.S.A. back in the bad old days   In the heat of a summer night
In the land of the dollar bill
When the town of Chicago died
And they talk about it still
When a man named Al Capone
Tried to make that town his own
And he called his gang to war
With the forces of the law   I heard my mama cry
I heard her pray the night Chicago died
Brother what a night it really was
Brother what a fight it really was
Glory be!
I heard my mama cry
I heard her pray the night Chicago died
Brother what a night the people saw
Brother what a fight the people saw
Yes indeed!   And the sound of the battle rang
Through the streets of the old east side
'Til the last of the hoodlum gang
Had surrendered up or died
There was shouting in the street
And the sound of running feet
And I asked someone who said
"'Bout a hundred cops are dead!"   I heard my mama cry
I heard her pray the night Chicago died
Brother what a night it really was
Brother what a fight it really was
Glory be!
I heard my mama cry
I heard her pray the night Chicago died
Brother what a night the people saw
Brother what a fight the people saw
Yes indeed!   And ther was no sound at all
But the clock upon the wall
Then the door burst open wide
And my daddy stepped inside
And he kissed my mama's face
And he brushed her tears away   The night Chicago died
Na-na na, na-na-na, na-na-na-na-na
The night Chicago died
Brother what a night the people saw
Brother what a fight the people saw
Yes indeed!   The night Chicago died
Na-na na, na-na-na, na-na-na-na-na
The night Chicago died
Brother what a night it really was
Brother what a fight it really was
Glory be!   The night Chicago died
Na-na na, na-na-na, na-na-na-na-na
The night Chicago died
Brother what a night the people saw
Brother what a fight the people saw
Yes indeed!

One of the things that drew me to SPI's DragonQuest was the fact that characters don't get harder to kill. They get better at killing things before they get killed.

My daddy was a cop on the east side of Chicago
Back in the U.S.A. back in the bad old days   In the heat of a summer night
In the land of the dollar bill
When the town of Chicago died
And they talk about it still
When a man named Al Capone
Tried to make that town his own
And he called his gang to war
With the forces of the law   I heard my mama cry
I heard her pray the night Chicago died
Brother what a night it really was
Brother what a fight it really was
Glory be!
I heard my mama cry
I heard her pray the night Chicago died
Brother what a night the people saw
Brother what a fight the people saw
Yes indeed!   And the sound of the battle rang
Through the streets of the old east side
'Til the last of the hoodlum gang
Had surrendered up or died
There was shouting in the street
And the sound of running feet
And I asked someone who said
"'Bout a hundred cops are dead!"   I heard my mama cry
I heard her pray the night Chicago died
Brother what a night it really was
Brother what a fight it really was
Glory be!
I heard my mama cry
I heard her pray the night Chicago died
Brother what a night the people saw
Brother what a fight the people saw
Yes indeed!   And ther was no sound at all
But the clock upon the wall
Then the door burst open wide
And my daddy stepped inside
And he kissed my mama's face
And he brushed her tears away   The night Chicago died
Na-na na, na-na-na, na-na-na-na-na
The night Chicago died
Brother what a night the people saw
Brother what a fight the people saw
Yes indeed!   The night Chicago died
Na-na na, na-na-na, na-na-na-na-na
The night Chicago died
Brother what a night it really was
Brother what a fight it really was
Glory be!   The night Chicago died
Na-na na, na-na-na, na-na-na-na-na
The night Chicago died
Brother what a night the people saw
Brother what a fight the people saw
Yes indeed!

They should just drag Deadpool, instead. Face down. He'll heal.

Giving me supervillain vibes.

Sprawling on the fringes of the city
In geometric order
An insulated border
In-between the bright lights
And the far, unlit unknown   Growing up, it all seems so one-sided
Opinions all provided
The future pre-decided
Detached and subdivided
In the mass-production zone   Nowhere is the dreamer
Or the misfit so alone   Subdivisions
In the high school halls
In the shopping malls
Conform or be cast out
Subdivisions
In the basement bars
In the backs of cars
Be cool or be cast out   Any escape might help to smooth
The unattractive truth
But the suburbs have no charms to soothe
The restless dreams of youth   Drawn like moths, we drift into the city
The timeless old attraction
Cruising for the action
Lit up like a firefly
Just to feel the living night   Some will sell their dreams for small desires
Or lose the race to rats
Get caught in ticking traps
And start to dream of somewhere
To relax their restless flight   Somewhere out of a memory
Of lighted streets on quiet nights   Subdivisions
In the high school halls
In the shopping malls
Conform or be cast out
Subdivisions
In the basement bars
In the backs of cars
Be cool or be cast out   Any escape might help to smooth
The unattractive truth
But the suburbs have no charms to soothe
The restless dreams of youth

Are V rolls as good as egg rolls?

Giving me supervillain vibes.

Swaying room as the music starts
Strangers making the most of the dark
Two by two their bodies become one   I see you through the smokey air
Can't you feel the weight of my stare
You're so close but still a world away
What I'm dying to say, is that   I'm crazy for you
Touch me once and you'll know it's true
I never wanted anyone like this
It's all brand new
You'll feel it in my kiss
I'm crazy for you, crazy for you   Trying hard to control my heart
I walk over to where you are
Eye to eye we need no words at all   Slowly now we begin to move
Every breath I'm deeper into you
Soon we two are standing still in time
If you read my mind, you'll see   I'm crazy for you
Touch me once and you'll know it's true
I never wanted anyone like this
It's all brand new
You'll feel it in my kiss
You'll feel it in my kiss
Because I'm crazy for you
Touch me once and you'll know it's true
I never wanted anyone like this
It's all brand new
You'll feel it in my kiss
I'm crazy for you
Crazy for you
Crazy for you
Crazy for you   It's all brand new, I'm crazy for you
And you know it's true
I'm crazy, crazy for you
It's all brand new, I'm crazy for you
And you know it's true
Yeah, I'm crazy for you
Crazy for you, baby

Jen took the simple expedient of tying her hair back, slipping on loose pajama bottoms, and tossing on a t-shirt. Riding the elevator down to the common floor, she yawned. She scratched the back of one leg with the slipper on her other foot.
 
“Please tell me there's coffee,” she mumbled.
 
“A full urn,” Mentor replied.
 
“Thanks for that.” The door opened and Jen headed towards the common room. Mother and sister were sitting, talking with Ash and Charley. Jen headed straight for the coffee.
 
“Why do you look like you just woke up? It is almost noon.”
 
“Really, mom? Just woke up? I think I've been awake almost fifteen minutes now.” Jen took her coffee to one of the other couches and sat.
 
“Out late on another adventure?” Steph asked.
 
“Yeah. The great adventure of studying and doing homework,” Jen said. She fought the urge to be testy. She wasn't entirely sure she was successful.
 
“Don't be snippy,” Steph shot back. Nope. Not being successful.
 
Jen yawned again. “Sorry, Sis. Long night with the books coupled with an unexpected family visit. Why didn't you call ahead?”
 
“I'm sorry, Jen,” her mom said. “We were in the area and thought we would stop in. Where's your brother?”
 
“Probably still sleeping,” Jen said.
 
“I'm not.” Brad's left eye was not-quite swollen shut. His left arm was in a sling, the hand drawn up near his right shoulder. A bruise from a bullet showed near his collarbone. “It just takes me a little longer to get from place to place right now.”

As an attack action, yes. As a defense, probably not.

Removing someone else's focus should only be from an attack option.

I wouldn't allow it. Drains are attack. Not defense.

Turning from side to side, Lisa Sheffield checked her reflection in the mirror. She smoothed her skirt. Her makeup was minimally done. Reaching for lipstick, her eyes shifted to white then back to her natural color. Her hand was flat on the top of the dresser.
 
“Shit.”
 
“Are you alright?” Mentor asked.
 
“Yes. Just a vision. Barely a blip, but fairly important. Rouse Brad. Tell him his mother is coming.” Lisa left her bedroom, rapped on Jen's door, and went inside. “Hey, time to get up.”
 
Bare back uncovered, grumbling, Jen buried her head under a pillow.
 
“None of that,” Lisa said, pulling the pillow off Jen's head.
 
“Whas the probem?” Jen mumbled.
 
“You've got about ten minutes to make yourself presentable. Your mother and Steph are inbound.”
 
Jen rolled over. “Shit.”
 
“That's what I said.”
 
Jen eyed Lisa. “What are you all dressed up for?”
 
“Lunch date in an hour.”
 
“Oh, right,” Jen yawned. “Whassisname.”
 
Lisa took Jen's hand. “Exactly.”
 
“Think it will go anywhere?”
 
“Yes. To a restaurant and a free meal. Beyond that, I'm not counting on it.” Lisa tugged Jen up to a sitting position. “Come on. Motivate. Get yourself presentable.”
 
Jen stretched. “I don't wanna.”

Brad pulled his gray McLaren 570S Spider into the drive of his parents' political home in the suburbs of Washington DC. Jenny hopped out and not-quite ran to the door. Brad turned the car around, expecting an abrupt departure. Shutting the engine off, he sat for a moment before getting out. He pocketed the keys, sighed, and walked slowly towards the door Jenny had disappeared into.
 
“Hello, Netty,” he said to the cook when he entered.
 
“Master Bradley,” Netty said in greeting. “They're waiting for you in the parlor.”
 
“Thanks, Netty.” Brad left the kitchen and went down the hall. He listened. Not to the words, but to the voices. He heard Jenny asking questions. His father and mother tried to answer her. Will tried to get a word in.
 
But not Steph. Brad frowned. Stephanie tended to be the loudest of the four and always had something to say on every subject.
 
He entered the parlor. “Where's Steph?”
 
“That's what we wanted you here to discuss,” Senator James Michaels, his father, said. “She's been kidnapped.”
 
“First Jen. Now Steph. This family is cursed,” Will muttered.
 
“Have they made contact?” Jen asked.
 
“Yes. Don't involve the police,” the Senator said. “Further demands will follow.”
 
Crossing his arms, Brad leaned against the inside of the archway. He shot a quick look at Jen. “How did they contact you?” she asked.
 
“They sent us a video recording on a memory stick,” his mother answered.
 
“I want to see it,” Jen said.
 
“It's in my office. The computer is on,” his father said. Jen headed back towards the hall. She gave Brad a quick nod on the way by. He saw her pull her phone out of her pocket when she was out of sight of her parents.
 
Brad watched his family. His mother and father looked at each other. Will tried to disappear into the sofa. “So, what's the plan?”
 
“We wait until they make contact again. We find out what their demands are. We keep her safe.”
 
Shaking his head, Brad said, “There's not a damned thing we can do that will keep her safe if they decide to harm her. In the meantime, business as usual. There's nothing wrong. Keep your career safe.”
 
“What's that supposed to mean?” James demanded.
 
“Same thing it always means, Dad. Your career is what is important. Not Jen when she was taken. Not Steph now. Hey, Will, got any plans to be kidnapped so Dad can schedule around it?”
 
“You're out of line!”
 
“Am I?” Brad asked.
 
“Got it!” Jen said running past Brad.
 
“Where are you going?”
 
“Business as usual, Dad. Living up to your expectations. Jen's got schoolwork to do. I've got a date tonight. Feel free to call when you'd like me to stop by for another ten minutes.” Brad turned. “Gotta go.”

I wouldn't allow it. Drains are attack. Not defense.

The puppeteers had a hand in that.