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    Werewolves of Mass Destruction: Gripping Tales of the Impossible, #1
    Werewolves of Mass Destruction: Gripping Tales of the Impossible, #1
    Werewolves of Mass Destruction: Gripping Tales of the Impossible, #1
    Ebook63 pages47 minutes

    Werewolves of Mass Destruction: Gripping Tales of the Impossible, #1

    By Joshua Unruh

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    About this ebook

    Verity Sooth, blogger of the bizarre, has a knack for finding weirdness and getting into trouble. So when she teams up with Ajax Stewart, Engineer of the Impossible, it can only be to battle an ageless Nazi Necromancer and his nihilistic cult.

    But can even these two heroes thwart a beastly act of terror that may well end human life on Earth? And if they do, will Verity hit the story's deadline?

    Gripping Tales of the Impossible: Werewolves of Mass Destruction is the first in what will hopefully be many stories about Ajax Stewart, Engineer of the Impossible and Verity Sooth, Blogger of the Bizarre.

    Approximately 15,000 words

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherPulp Diction Press
    Release dateMar 30, 2015
    ISBN9781507001257
    Werewolves of Mass Destruction: Gripping Tales of the Impossible, #1
    Author

    Joshua Unruh

    Joshua Unruh writes all the things. He has developed webseries and television pilots that have never been produced, comic books that have never been drawn, and roleplaying games that have never been played. But he always publishes the stories! Through his imprint, Pulp Diction Press, Joshua specializes in modern retro fiction. Action scientists, haunted cowboys, girl super spies, diverse superheroes, and marauding vikings are just some of what he offers through PDP. Joshua strives to make everything he writes clever, interesting, or funny. Like Meatloaf said, two out of three ain't bad. He makes his home in Oklahoma City with a wife, a son, a dog, and no room in the storm shelter when the inevitable tornado hits.

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      Book preview

      Werewolves of Mass Destruction - Joshua Unruh

      Werewolves of Mass Destruction

      Gripping Tales of the Impossible, Volume 1

      Joshua Unruh

      Published by Pulp Diction Press, 2015.

      This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental.

      WEREWOLVES OF MASS DESTRUCTION

      First edition. March 30, 2015.

      Copyright © 2015 Joshua Unruh.

      ISBN: 978-1507001257

      Written by Joshua Unruh.

      Table of Contents

      Title Page

      Copyright Page

      Werewolves of Mass Destruction (Gripping Tales of the Impossible, #1)

      Sign up for Joshua Unruh's Mailing List

      Also By Joshua Unruh

      About the Author

      About the Publisher

      Intrepid readers, you've been with me through so much. You were there when I posted definitive proof that the Loch Ness Monster was more Nestor than Nessie. You read with bated breath how I discovered through personally harrowing danger that the chupacabra is willing to suck the bodily fluids of a lot more than goats. You thrilled as I worked my way backwards from Area 319 all the way back to Area 57 (so close!). And you freaked to discover that the Men in Black were an elaborate cover-up maintained by the Men in Plaid.

      I enjoyed experiencing and writing about those adventures as much as you did reading about them. But, patrons of the Bizarre Bazaar, I assure you they are small potatoes compared to the shocking turn of events that began with me about to be sacrificed—burned alive, actually—by a druidic offshoot of the Irish Republican Army. I do not well play the damsel in distress, but believe me, intrepid ones, that I was in deep distress when my hero arrived. I must admit, though, I never expected to have my life saved by a grown man the world once called a Teen Science Detective...

      - Excerpt from Verity Sooth's Bizarre Bazaar Blog

      Verity sat thirty feet in the air behind the bars of a wicker cage. Her rattan prison served as the chest cavity of a man-shaped figure created from bundles of straw. She wondered if, after everything else, this was how it would end. Burned to a cinder by a bunch of IRA-terrorists-turned-druid-wannabes so they could get in on the international occult arms trade. The bonfire was starting to get hot even up here, and its smoke combined with the incessant drone in Gaelic to give her a migraine. And she was already irritable, what with the whole about-to-be-murdered thing.

      Could you guys throw some lighter fluid on that fire to hurry this up? she yelled down at the circle of thirteen men wearing rough robes. If the flames don’t get me, I’ll probably die of embarrassment just being this close to you yahoos.

      The men ignored her and continued to chant. Moon and firelight glinted off wavy daggers and the points of the stag antlers worn by (and Verity inwardly snorted in derision just thinking the words) the Archdruid. She slumped backward and felt the whole wicker man sway with her movement. She wished her last-ditch attempt at getting rescued had worked. She’d always wanted to meet the Engineer of the Impossible, ever since she was a kid.

      Wow, a non-Irish, non-chanting voice said from far below her. Is this an honest-to-goodness wicker man ceremony? And right next to a trio of standing stones, too? I expected the beauty and history of Ireland to astound me, but I sure didn’t expect a show like this.

      Every hooded head turned toward the voice. Verity scrabbled around inside her prison, trying to see who spoke. The distance, the smoke, and the angle kept her from getting a good look at the man, but she couldn’t help feeling a flutter that she might not die here tonight. The Archdruid, stupid, giant, antler headdress and all, stepped in the direction of the voice, waving his arms and making angry noises in the same way Verity’s grandmother used to if somebody got too close to her azaleas.

      This is a sacred rite, the Archdruid began in his thick brogue, ye cannae be trespassin’ here!

      You mean this isn’t some sort of reenactment for tourists?

      Naw, me lad, this is the real deal, the Archdruid drawled. And we can’t let ye wander off to tell the Guards, now can we?

      The other robed terrorists drifted out and away from the wicker man to surround the newcomer.

      So I guess the wicker man gets another sacrifice besides this nosy reporter.

      A reporter? The newcomer sounded amused. Oh, good, I was afraid I’d stumbled on the wrong set of idiots bent on burning people alive.

      Verity finally saw something of the voice’s owner when a blur darted into the circle of bonfire light and toward the Archdruid. A fist shot out and vanished

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