As some of you may know, and for those that don't, back in highschool myself and several friends put together a low (no) budget film called "Mavericks, Curse of the Red Dragon." It was shot with a tiny point and click camera that took five minutes of footage at a time. We edited it in windows movie maker and premiered it outdoors back in 2005. The movie had its problems... it didn't make sense at times and it was hard to hear or too dark in other places. But at the heart of the movie was a great story waiting to be told right. Rich characters with deep pasts that came together to save the world. A classic good versus evil story. Recently we've decided that the story was worth telling right and this time around we are making Maverick's the book. The story is in process and things that were confusing in the movie are being changed or replaced to provide a more cohesive tale. My friend Headcase (who played Jack Magnus in the movie) is doing the illustrations as well as helping with ideas and several of the old cast are being consulted for thier views on how the story should be told. I am doing the writing (I played Mick 'Nemesis' Burton ), and my fiance, Tishina ' prettyinpink' Foster is the editor-in-chief. i.e. grammar Nazi.
As a teaser I have provided the prologue below. For those of you that saw the movie this is a juicy extension to the opening lines in the movie after the title and for those of you that havn't maybe this will get you exited for a great story coming soon to a computer near you.


Prologue

A solitary lamp, the bulb loose, flickering, cast its eerie red glow on the old wooden desk littered with papers. Shadows cast by the disheveled stacks of folders formed grotesque figures on the dark brick walls of the office. Violent shadow-beasts waiting and lurking, seeking destruction and longing for malice. The real beast, however, the one of flesh and blood and bone, sat quietly as a stalking lion behind the black desk. Quietly but tense and ready to strike. A soft knock at the huge ebony door, the kind made by one that doesn’t truly wish to enter, caused the man’s eyes to flash up. He sat down the folder he had been glaring at and relaxed a little; but only a little.
“Come,” his velvety deep voice crooned. Violent as he was on the inside, as conniving and wicked, on the surface he was suave and charismatic. His black suit and tie were his trademarks. He held himself with an air of dignity and class that belied his true nature. It was all a facade for at his core he was cruelty and ruthlessness incarnate.
The door creaked open and a hulking man filled the entrance. It was dark but his fiery red beard was still visible; shaggy and unkempt. He wore a tattered black leather jacket that could have clothed two men and a blood red bandanna coiled around his forehead holding back a mop of reddish brown hair that appeared to have never seen a brush. He had to duck to enter the room; stopping just inside the door.
“You asked to see me, Don K.” the giant bellowed in a rumbling tone.
“Yes, Mick, have a seat.”
The behemoth eyed the tiny chair speculatively but eased his bulk onto it as told. It groaned under the strain, but miraculously it held up the weight.
“I have a very special assignment for you.” Whispered the self proclaimed Don. He had taken the title by force and maintained it through fear. The previous Don had been too trusting, allowing K to slime his way up the ranks of the Mafia until a knife in the back had made him the new head of the organization. No one knew what the “K” stood for but no one dared ask.
“I’ll do as you ask,” grunted Mick, a slight trace of fear on his voice. Even at twice the size of his boss he respected what the well-dressed man could do.
“There is someone… new in town. Someone from my past,” continued K. “He has something that belongs to me and I want it back.”
“Where do I find him?” asked Mick.
“Find him?” laughed K. “He will find you. And if he does you’re a dead man.”
“But I thought…”
“Don’t think,” K interrupted. “Listen. You aren’t going to be able to do this on your own, do you understand.” Don K was not asking a question… he was making a statement. Mick was confused but did not speak.
“You will need help and not just from anyone either. This thief that’s back in town… only one person even stands a chance against him. You will need to find this person and convince him to help you. Bring him to me.”
“What if he won’t come?” wondered Mick aloud.
“He will. He’s a bounty hunter, a cowboy, and that mercenary scum won’t turn down a paycheck.” Don K picked up the folder that he had been looking at before Mick had come. He pushed it across the desk to the massive man. “His name is Jack… find him!”
“Got it boss.”