An Excerpt.

I had an idea in my head for a book series. I wanted to tell a story about ordinary people finding themselves in extraordinary circumstances.

I had a problem... I needed the antagonist for the first book. I started to write a prologue to explain how the now deceased parents had made enemies... and came up with the Neo Nazi antagonist. I could not keep it to prolgue length however, so it became a separate book.

The original intent was to tell that story through flashbacks, diary entries and siblings' conversations. That fell apart so instead I decided to tell their story as a light hearted romance and correct the record in the same manner in the next book.

Regardless of how... Nathaniel Peterson was born as an antagonist. The following excerpt is from Chasing The Wrong Dream of the series Failure's Legacy written by me.

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Clara gave Jilissa the keys, who sprinted to get the van and pulled around just in time as the fighting began to move from upstairs to downstairs, into the parking lot, and out into the night. Bobby carried Tony around to the driver’s side, laid him down on the rear seat, and buckled Tony in when he heard the unmistakable voice of Nazi Nate from the far side of the van.

“This isn’t over you mother fuckers,” Bobby heard Nate yell at least three times. Bobby saw Clara and Jilissa back around the rear quarter panel. When Nate came into view, he held one of those collapsible batons as he played with it and threatened the girls. While upstairs, Bobby, who had thrown punches and people, did so out of concern for his friends and adopted family. He wasn’t angry, but now seeing this man whom he hated stalking the girls and threatening Jilissa, he was beyond angry.

Nate did not see Bobby crouched as he dealt with an injured friend. Hearing Nate’s voice, Tony, whose face was swollen and his leg useless yelled, “Hell no! fuck you! I will fuck you up!” Tony tried to get out of the van to take the fight to Nate himself.

The little shit has heart, Bobby thought. “I got the light work for ya, man,” Bobby whispered to Tony patting his shoulder, “Sit tight.”

 As Bobby stood up, he stepped into a baton swing aimed at Jilissa’s head. Knowing he would be hit, and it was going to hurt, Bobby didn’t care. He swung his fist at Nate’s throat as he stepped in front of the whistling baton. Bobby was struck in the ribs, but his fist hit Nate in the top of his sternum and knocked the breath from him. Nazi Nate folded onto the pavement, gasping for air. Bobby leaned, winced, and favored his left side where he’d been struck but did not go down.

Bobby refused to go down in this parking lot when his friends were still in serious danger. He stood up straight, surprising Nate’s people who were gathered around, and watched. Bobby shook his body as if shaking off the baton blow. He grabbed Nathan’s leg, rolled him on his stomach, and lifted his ankle high in the air. Bobby drove it down, causing Nathan’s knee to collide with the asphalt. Bobby felt a satisfying crunch on impact. He stood and glared at the crowd; no one made a move toward him, no one dared. There was a feral, primal look in Bobby’s eyes.

“Anyone else? I’ll beat your ass and hide the Bible if God’s watching.” He yelled at the onlookers.