Excerpt from novella Order 88

Outside the Michigan Governor’s Mansion

The gate was breached quickly and easily by three C-4 explosive packs meant to breach and surprise the enemy. There was to be no mistaking their actions – this was a siege. Security personnel held their ground but were severely out-gunned. Automatic weapons fire followed a volley of grenades and a single mortar round placed perfectly on the leading edge of the assault force who had taken cover when Kellogg announced “Cover.”

The team entered the mansion as planned; two more bodyguards went down, each shot in the head by the team as they stepped over the bodies – just to make sure.

They knew the governor was home. All the attacks had been meticulously planned over the past two years and seemed to be unfolding perfectly. All the training, surveillance, and strategy leading up to this moment had been accurate. Dillon could only hope the others were having it as easy.

Continue reading my novella ripped from today’s headlines!

A President refusing to accept election results as a nightmare scenario unfolds post election night!

Order 88 – Kindle edition by Graves, J. Lee. Mystery, Thriller & Suspense!

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We are so very lucky today. The election could have had a very different result.

Understanding My Chihuahua on Medium

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The Last Great Battle

From Medium

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Ever the Horizon

The hills beyond our hill, look past our simple way of life. What vistas extend beyond those strange mounds? This flora, this fauna of our tiny little patch; what lives beyond? What new plants can we eat, can we grow? What new harvests shall bare the fruit of our curiosity? We shall go forth and take what we see.

The lands beyond our land, think far beyond our understanding. What vast resources exist beyond our sight? What new opportunities can we forge from our labor? What savage cultures ravage that unknown place? We shall go forth and conquer what we find.

The seas beyond our sea, look past our stagnant way of life. What riches lay hidden? What treasures await? We shall venture into the unknown and claim what is ours.

The stars beyond our star, look past our ruined world. What wonders do you see? What sanctuaries are there? We must move outwards or lose our treasures and parish from this world.

Understanding My Chihuahua: They really are affectionate.

When I first encountered a Chihuahua my experience was like so many others; a yippy, nippy, and shaky itty bitty ball of rage. It shaped my opinion of the breed for decades. I thought who wants to deal with that?

Forty years of bias building a prejudice against chihuahuas came crashing down one rainy day when my family and I found a small handful (literally) named Chica. She was lost, cold, and the sweetest old girl I’d ever seen.

We found her home but she found a home in our hearts and two months later we brought home a puppy, a chihuahua puppy, something I never thought would happen.

We named her JanisJoplin and to paraphrase her namesake she took all the pieces of our hearts. I learned very quickly what all chihuahua owners know and what I never understood; chihuahuas love fiercely and and protect their loved ones ferociously. They are tiny but have mighty hearts capable of boundless love and incredible bravery.

My First Novella: Order 88

I self-published my first novella. Order 88 is taken straight from today’s headlines! The sitting President refuses to accept election results and plunges the U.S. into chaos with a single social media post!

Being Owned by a Chihuahua

I look at her face

Eyes wide

Love filled

Adoring and hazel

That sick sweet feeling grips my heart

It’s hard to be mad

Despite the poop on the floor

COVID Thy Name is Pestilence

I am the breath of the dragon

⁃ laying waste to empires.

I am the bloom in the body;

my flower of death,

⁃ nectar flooding my host,

all with such sorrow.

I am the talk of the town,

⁃ the word death on your lips.

Creating social distance

⁃ like a rift;

spreading discord

⁃ like disease

by word of mouth.

Rugby League

Beautiful brutality –

in this games simplicity.

Rover rover send your best runners over.

The kick. The chase. The touch and try.

Eighty minutes of tough and tumble and blood in this rumble –

and when the whistle blows we drink!

‘Boltz Blitz Lions Force 1st Quarter Forfeit

The controversial Chargers signing of Donald Blake had its anticipated affect…and then some. The utility back best known as the Avenger Thor scored every time he touched the ball, an unstoppable force leading the Chargers to the 80-0 rout.

Lions General Manager Bob Quinn reportedly contacted Commissioner Roger Goodell early in the 1st quarter to request an end to the game to avoid further embarrassment. The request was granted as the quarter ended.

Blake (signed in the offseason) took the field first on defense. Chargers head coach Anthony Lynn said he intended to play Blake on both sides of the ball. Blake is listed on the roster as a utility back. It did not take long for Blake to make an impact intercepting QB Mathew Stafford in the first play of the game. “I never saw him,” Stafford said in a post game interview. “I mean literally — I never saw him. I mean, he is a kind of god or something.”

The Asgardian single handily decimated the helpless Lions scoring all 80 points off the interception, 9 punt returns, and converting all 10 two-point conversions. On defense he was equally unrivaled tallying 27 solo tackles to end all 9 Lions’ drives.

Blake’s offseason signing had caused quite a stir. The NFL has banned “enhanced individuals” after the New York Giants attempted to sign Steve Rogers. Individuals born with their special talents are protected under US anti-discrimination law. Scott Boris, Rogers’ agent, argues his client is being denied his rights to play by “the very government that sanctioned his ‘enhancement’.”

In related news; Dallas Cowboys owner Jerry Jones is currently rumored to be in negations with Olympic gold medalist and multiple world record holder Pietro Maximoff. Jay-Z of Roc Nation Sports, Maximoff’s agent, could not be reached for comment.

Next week Los Angeles hosts the Dallas Cowboys and are currently considered heavy favorites.

by Jason Graves

The Bugle, Los Angeles Sports Desk

My Friend is Gone

I dreamt of John

Of sandlots and beach trips

Of laughter and adventure

Trying to find the perfect shirt for guy’s night

I dreamt of John

Of better days

Football games and simpler ways

Of futures past us by

Of young men’s hopes and whims

And then I woke

—

by Jason Graves

Annoy Squidward Day

Drawing by Sydney Graves

Laying by a Campfire

The glowing fire pops with a hiss

Sending embers floating upward

Mixing with meandering fireflies

Their light flashing against a backdrop of stars

Twinkling like shimmering diamonds

Light cast from eons past

A millennia away,

Striking my eyes with gentle radiance

—

by Jason Graves

If you like my poetry please check out my 1st collection on Kindle.

Unsocial Media https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07QN7VP6S/ref=cm_sw_r_cp_api_i_6gyrEbRTCRYYK

Unsaid

Why don’t I care

Dying

You know that thing

So many fear

Why don’t I care

Writing

Get these words out of my head

Before dying

Why don’t I care

Knowing

As I drift off to sleep

I’m going to keep all my words

Unsaid

by Jason Graves

Screaming in a Torrent

A whirlwind of wit and wisdom. Words whip around wildly, thrown aimlessly into the void. Voices lost to vapid views filling vacant space between Vines and ears. Fabricated facts by twits unsound. White-noise of rage and righteousness meaning nothing.

by Jason Graves

Child of Earth

Torn from the Earth, of the Earth, leaving scars.

Born of dust, the stuff of stars.

Under a tattered shroud.

Hemorrhaging.

Oh Mother, standing naked, emaciated, protecting the terrified child.

Innocent no longer.

The Crimson King is creeping and the Naked Imp is swooning while both continually moving,

Toward the looming Midnight Tower.

As the Doomsday Clock keeps ticking.

by Jason Graves

Geopoliticus Child Watching the Birth of the New Man – Salvador Dali, 1943

Crimson King – created by Stephen King, 1994

Super Rugby 2020

Super – a prefix from the Latin meaning “above, beyond.” Superman. Richie Mo’unga with laser focus, skilled hands and feet, and a motor that won’t quit. Supernatural. Samu Kerevi with uncanny ability, scary speed, and freakish size. Super Rugby. Yes, its that time of year again.

The beginning of February makes me super giddy for a certain sport and I’m not referring to that other Super something. I’m of course talking about the thrill-filled Super Rugby. When that first drop kick to start the season takes to the air my anticipation for the twenty-one weeks of super exciting, super thrilling, Super Rugby goes into overdrive. By the way, that first drop kick of the 2020 season came from Blues flyhalf Stephen Perofeta.

Don’t get me wrong. I get excited to see the start of our US-based Major League Rugby as it grows and expands. I am always happy to see the start of Premiership and Pro 14 rugby in Europe providing a pleasant alternative to American Football. Super Rugby just pushes the happy meter to max. Maybe its the weather which always seems perfect. Maybe the exotic locations of the Southern Hemisphere. Honestly though, I really think its the fast-pace, full-throttle, high-scoring, stamina testing five month sprint to June 20th.

I don’t really know how to explain it other than it is just super rugby.

by Jason Graves

Cover photo from Planetrugby.com Blues vs Chiefs

Erie

Surging forward fierce and relentless

Unstoppable

Crashing upon unsuspecting shores

A tsunami of unrelenting strength

Ethereal

Washing over all with a cold surge

Eventual and absolute

I am Death

 

By Jason Graves

Photo by Dave Sandford (@Dave_Sandford) – Waves on Lake Erie

Therapist

The scene was a mirror image. The dark alley masked the ongoing horror as did the heavy bass emanating from the club. Screams blended into the surrounding sound waves melding into the thunderous mix of loud voices and music spilling from the backdoor.

It seemed like shadows cast by the piss-yellow light of the street lamps ate sound.

Crumpled on the soiled concrete a man lay screaming and bleeding. He was not a big man, he was a little man in a big body. He cried and screamed like a terrified child, a man-child. Helpless. Hopeless.

Protruding from his left shoulder was a six inch long, inch and a half wide blade; stabbed into that body-pocket below the collarbone but above the pectoral. Sunk to the hilt. A smaller blade, but only just, thrust into the right inner thigh just below the groin likely severed the femoral artery. The knives looked like valves on a spigot that released blood and screams when twisted.

“Please stop,” he begged. “Don’t do this,” he cried.

A gloved hand trembling with rage, fingers spread wide, griped the black scarf covering the face beneath. Fingers clutched into a fist pulling the scarf with them revealing below a grimace of wrath. “Funny,” she said “that’s exactly what I said to you.”

 

by Jason Graves